Posted in poetry

And Tribbles?

When the earth tilts its northern face sunward
And the plant kingdom takes notice
And the birds fly in pairs,
We uncrate the renewal runes
We've kept so long their roots
Are lost beyond the foggy vales of centuries —
Icons of magic we now know better,
Having seen the DNA.
Eggs, of course.
And rabbits.
And tribbles?


I’ve retired after a career teaching law. I divide my time now between Athens, Georgia, in the States and the south coast of Ireland.