girl of the oak hill winds

at the spine of my fox,
a window – opened
shamrock, living at
base of my neck


dancing as a deer
in full mask
‘what’s for dinner?’

and the black and white camera
records the silence

records the stages in
story board moments
like a graphic novel like
a novel gone from print to
screen to radio, and
now to cartoon vision
where it takes on a character
of it’s own, and the hero
is you again asking,

‘what’s for dinner?’

while the fox at my bare back
is red and smiling
the shamrock is dying
and the window is

a cold winter morning is here
snow white
with grey sky, blue until
early afternoon, when the
moon kicks the sun and says,

‘answer the question, what’s for dinner?

i again,
with the fox to keep me warm
we sleep and lose hibernation
and lose ourselves
to the oak hill winds

forget the dinner,
listen to the whistle of
a train no longer running
of a funnel, a tunnel
going up hill,
riding down into town and
waiting for history
while you and i,
look up at the night sky-

one fox, one flower,
one window with frost and a
dead spider half finished
on a curled up fly
– this is the oak hill wind, caught
in the moment of our bedroom
while we set down empty bowls of
a forgotten dinner.
dig deeper for sleep,
fox at my spine, shamrock
at base of neck

girl of the oak hill winds


About Crazy Irishman

Touted as a working man's poet, Martin Durkin has been writing professionally for the last 12 years. He has appeared in over twenty anthologies across North America, including, "And left a place to stand on", a collection of poems and essays about the late great Al Purdy. Durkin has also published two collections of poetry, "Hypnotic Childhood", and "The Sound of Quish". Over the past 4 years, Durkin has been on hiatus for the most part but has recently come back to the poetry scene creating a poetry site called, where in the past year he has written over 100 poems and created a cross over page on where he gives a story behind each of the pieces written. View all posts by Crazy Irishman

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