Daily Poem from Achill Island

If I tell you of my pain
Can you stay
Will you turn away?

If I spell out my grief
Can you cope
Or, like a thief

Will you steal away
My hope
Of being heard?

Still she stands at the open fire
Hands soft and wrinkled
Skirt sprinkled with tiny flowers
My face enfolded as she rocks me to and fro
Ochoneo go deo, go deo
Movourneen o; go dilis o!

If I pour out the poison of my pain
Can you refrain
From saying, "You'll be O.K.
I've got lots to do today?"

If you cannot stay or cope or care
I understand
Only please don't hold my hand
And pretend

I'd like to find a friend
Who will stay
This trauma of the past.
This pain, and grief and woe.
Ochoneo go deo, go deo
Movourneen o; go dilis o!

by Anne Kelly