Posted in poetry

September 1, 2019

A happy maelstrom of Sunday cyclists
Congregated in racing plumage
And clacky shoes
At pushed-together tables
In an Irish coffee shop,
Breaking the seal on a
Fresh September
Decades down the road
From where the Wehrmacht
Murdered Poland.


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.