The Girl in the Flower Shop

She opens and closes
shutters every day
breathes the perfume
of chrysamthemums and stems
looks around her
at twelve red roses
standing hopefully
in a tin bucket

in her garden every season
blossoms in harmony
tulips part their lips
and bring her stories from
the lowlands
she neatens little cards
carrying words
that are difficult to say
and looks at the pink
and blue ribbons
yet to be tied

she’ll make a couple of wreaths
today perhaps
for some tragedy that hasn’t
happened yet
and when five to six comes
she’ll sweep up the fallen petals
and stems,
pull the door out behind her
and leave the future
safely locked up
'till morning.

An Cailín i Siopa na mBláth

An Cailín i Siopa na mBláth

Osclaíonn sí agus dúnann sí
dallóga gach lá
análann sí cumhracht
criosantamam is gasanna
féachann thart uirthi
mar a seasann dhá rós déag dearg
go dóchasach
ina mbuicéad stáin
bláthaíonn gach séasúr
in éineacht ina gairdín
scarann na tiúlaipí
a mbeola
is beireann scéalta
ón ísiltír chúici
néataíonn sí na cártaí beaga
a fhógraíonn focail
a bhíonn deacair a rá
is féachann ar na
ribíní gorma is bándearga
a bheidh le ceangailt
déanfaidh sí cúpla fleasc inniu
b’fhéidir
do thragóid éigin nár tharla fós
is nuair a thiocfaidh cúig chun a sé
scuabfaidh sí suas
na piotail a thit
tarraingeoidh sí an doras ina diaidh
is fágfaidh ócáidí an todhchaí
slán fé ghlas
go maidin.