reflections I - born in april
it was fear - arriving home in a
frenzy.
a mask, but it couldn’t protect me.
a passer-through and his ignorance
shone
like the beam at the centre of my
cave.
consisting of my seasonal
depression and eternal anger.
my birthday was approaching, but so was
the glass to
envelope our destroyed site.
would the trees continue to shake
here?
glassy eyes, hands shaking and cold, from
the
washing.
sniffy nostrils; inhaling what was
accepted,
and exhaling the heaviness in my polmoni.
we all hoped to get out;
but from what? i whispered
You Remind Me of Somebody
The coldness around here doesn’t make my
Feelings for you change. No, they don’t go
Away.
The colours outside fade to something
New - something quick to touch, but slow
To change.
Time; it’s slow to change, but forgetting it
Takes mere seconds.
I don’t want you to forget about me so
Easily. I might not ever forget you.
Grace Sampson is a County Limerick poet, who invokes Irishness and growth within her work. She draws her inspiration from her friends scattered around the world, her psyche and how it has faced a rebirth, and the Irish nature that she simply cannot escape from.
She is working towards her first collection of poetry, while
preparing to graduate from NUIG in English and Italian.
She had a selection of poems published in ’The Galway Review’ in Spring 2020, and is a collaborator on an upcoming book on the experimentalism of Thom Gunn.
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