Dermott Hayes

Part 9 of the Moon Series

Harvest Moon over Dublin (Hayes)

The idiots are out again
They’ve painted all the windows
It must be the end of the week,
approaching winter,
spray can goons
are on the loose,
scrawling their insipid goop.

Standing on my roof,
a dry, clear night,
harvest moon
lying low, making time
ride or die, fly or cry,
dusty tumbleweed,
tumbling crime.

Crowds comfort me
solitary, untouched
in a heaving mass, apart,
sodden blanket noise,
earphones play an air,
pipes, fiddle, bouzouki strain,
lamenting something lost or gone.



Part 8, Moon Series

Sturgeon Moon (Hayes)

Sturgeon moon,
bright and blazing
over a shimmering lake
In East Clare,
where a teacher once slept,
beset by a nightmare
in the moonlight.

What he saw
was change,
for the times,
for the people,
for himself,
change of thought,
of life and circumstance.

Fear is…



Part 6, Moon Series

super moon (Sky)

Awake, awake
no time to sleep
arise, arise
to stay awake
in summer heat
til blazing day
eclipse the night
and I, spine rent,
slowly, painfully
healing, wondering,
of my waning
strawberry plant,
bloom, bloom
fruit, flower,
explode to light,
explode to life,
to walk again
might be a portent
of rare celestial
alignment or
simply a feat
of medical skill,
personal fortitude,
grim, resolute
nothing happens
faster or slower
than nature,light or time,
rose in the sky,
sweet strawberry moon
ablaze so brief
to herald day’s vigour
night hours’ thief,
Midsummer’s magical mystery,
resplendent moon ablaze,
awake, awoke
astride the march of time.