Old Woman of the Old Road
After Padraic Colum Old Woman of the Roads
Oh to have a little calm
Reclaim the moss and grass and wall
No more crosses to be added
Rarely any traffic at all
I could be busy my new days
Letting my verges, hedges grow
I was built for slower times -
The pony and trap, the long ago
I could be quiet then at night
Away from glare and light and horn
A distant hum from the new N4
To lull me to sleep from dark to dawn
Och but I’m tired of lorry and truck
And rarely a gap between van and car
And jaded I am of stop and start
And headlights undimmed in the dark.
So now I’d like to be forgotten
watch spiders weave in morning dew
All I want in the days ahead
Is to see much less of all of you
Eithne Hand
Walk the Unopened Road
A tongue of tarmac licks through townlands
of meadow and lake – a landscape
of nothing slowly becoming a something -
today, our Sunday footsteps are the only sounds.
Mini diggers, JCB’s, Surface
Dressers catch their breath and rest.
A house deserted for years, peeps out,
its faded eyebrows looking surprised.
Grasses wave in unnaturally straight lines,
sending eager roots downwards.
Sheep, cows, horses raise their heads
diverted by us two-legged creatures.
Here, on pristine asphalt, a Hairy Molly,
safe for now, tests the still sticky surface.
Eithne Hand
Backseat on the new N4
Hey Mum, how long more?
Tap your Are We There Yet App
I want to be there NOW
Sh, pet I’m just finishing a zoom meeting
You never look at the road anymore
I don’t need to
We’ll crash
No we won’t
But you’re not paying attention
The car will warn me
What if it breaks down – in its mind
Noah, it’s not going to break down
But what if it did…
You’re perfectly safe, I promise
I’m bored
Try the puzzles
They’re stupid
Play one with your brother
Look! Horse!
Why not sleep for a while
Mum, I’m hungry
We’ll eat at Granny’s
I hate Granny’s
You love Granny’s
I want to go in those fields
Pull down the blind
But I want to see the cows
The sun is too bright
and there’s some sheeps
Watch the Babe movie again
Wow, that cow has a white star on its head
You’ll feel sick …
Why will I feel sick
…if you look out too much.
Mum, all the mountains here have pimples on top?
Don’t be silly.
They do – there’s another one. Why do they?
I don’t know. Ask Google.
Eithne Hand
