Happy St. Patrick’s Day
HUDSON VALLEY SUNRISE
The sun a brilliant girl this morning,
puts me in mind of MacGillycuddy rising,
the mountain behind our B&B
who whispered mist all day to me
while I fell in love with Cill Airne.
I was a sly watcher, not letting her know
what it meant to live in her shadow,
I, a girl long in love with the sun,
saw my self in her dark disposition.
I gave up light, not counting the cost.
I felt found and I felt lost,
living her murk and uncertainty
instead of the native clarity
my southern soul had long demanded,
hearing, for once, what my heart commanded.