Echoes from the Ruins
Echoes from the ruins.
When you watch our sightless windows
Do you see our faces, pale in dusty memory?
Do the crows call out our mockery
Or the swans reflect our grace?
And as the stonework crumbles
Does our family name retreat
To half forgotten tales in misty bars
And embroidered emigrant fancies?
Well, traveller, read the signs.
This property is private still,
And trespassing is danger.
You may climb into our land,
But we can have your mind,
And no defence will save you from
The misery we’ll bring.
Pass on and show respect,
For once we were and again shall be –
And you shall count for nothing.
(Castlefreke, west County Cork – somehow inspiring and edgy.)