Five miles from the city it begins to rain, I walk the soft margin of the road with my stick to lean on for a walking cane past caravans and trails of gypsy camps, the laundry hung out in waves to dry. I’ve come from Coole Park and Thoor Ballylee and am haunted not so much by Yeats as blind Raftery and dead Mary Hynes. So the rain is no sorrow to me today, but I bear the weather as a brother, the sight of the bay is enough for now. A few children playing by the road stare at my army raincoat, tweed cap and wildflowers like a man who has found his way home from the pub after too many hours. And I enter old Galway near Claddagh Quay towards the dock and the bay where a woman at Stella’s Café directs me to No. 19. There an Irish Spencer Tracy lets me in brings my wet things for the line and I feel my breath coming back to me like swans on the tide.
Crowed is Michael Magee’s 5th collection published my MoonPath Press; his others are Shiny Things, Terra Firma, How We Move Toward Light, and Cinders of My Better Angels. Michael’s poems reflect his interest in nature, theatre, music, literature, and travel. His mentors and friends have been David Wagoner, Ben Drake, and William Matchett, professors emeriti at the University of Washington. His musical influences include: Franz Liszt, Chopin, Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, Marianne Faithfull, and Townes Van Zandt. New work appears in Open Book: Western Washington Poets Network Anthology and Cirque. He conducts writing workshops and appears on KTAH FM RadioTacoma, VerseDaily.Org, and The Writer’s Almanac.
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In these hills where near all the tongues are green, you’ll hear a long-winded chatter, lively even through the dark hours, if you walk your ears out this far, into green various as the dialects crossing the station platforms of the air, green luminous in the pond reed banners, purpled in the pennyroyal rabble on the banks, sheened in the moss pelts trunk to root where the heavens’ blues slant through the high-slung scaffolds’ magnesium greened ranks—it’s the drumroll-sung speech of the leaves in their gusty unrest. I dream you’re standing here in the slow green fire of the earth’s breath, dressed in morning glory and ivy, beside me once more while the iron-red world takes a century deciding if it should devour itself completely, airstrike by plague by tsunami, or let our hilltop green ark float past.
Jed Myers serves as editor for the online journal Bracken, participates in the music-and-poetry ensemble Band of Poets, helps arrange and performs in benefits for World Central Kitchen, and plays in Easy Speak’s house band known as The 52nd Street Band. Can’t Be Far, Myers’s fourth full-length collection, was a finalist for the MoonPath Press Sally Albiso Award. His previous collection, Learning to Hold, won the Wandering Aengus Press Editors’ Award. His other books are The Marriage of Space and Time (MoonPath Press), Watching the Perseids (Sacramento Poetry Center Book Award), and six chapbooks. Currently retired from his therapy practice, Myers writes, makes music, and walks in the nearby wetlands along the Lake Washington shore.
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