She said that Aisling let her cut the sprigs. It is 3.15 p.m, it is Thursday, I am examining two rosemary sprigs their blue-green, their silver underlight. She is stripping the small base leaves from a third, tapping its heel, putting it in a glass of crystal-clear-water for planting out with the roses in October. I can taste lamb-stew with rowanberries, counting the trees– alternating Crab-apple Rowanberry Crab -apple Rowanberry that syncopated another’s drive— Memory insists that I stand on a bank of the River Tolka, upstream from Socrates and his garden of roses, those colours we tasted– For here is the place that we committed him to memory that black water– Glas Naíon, the stream of the infants, with petals, with flower-heads. © C. Murray “The Rosemary” is a short poem from Gold Friend (Turas Press, 2020). I recorded a version of it for Lyric FM (RTÉ) in late 2019. Thanks to Eithne Hand for recording the poems and to Evelyn Grant for broadcasting the first poem on 07/03/2020. The second poem in this short series will be ‘Aluine’s Gardens‘ from Cycles (Lapwing Press, 2013) will be broadcast in May 2020, link here. Poetry File – RTÉ (Podcast) Online URL: https://www.rte.ie/radio1/podcast/podcast_evelyngrantdrive.xml
‘The Rosemary’
She said that Aisling
let her cut the sprigs.
It is 3.15 p.m, it is Thursday,
I am examining two rosemary sprigs
their blue-green,
their silver underlight.
She is stripping the small base leaves from a third,
tapping its heel,
putting it in a glass
of crystal-clear-water
for planting out with the roses in October.
I can taste lamb-stew
with rowanberries,
counting the trees–
alternating Crab-apple
Rowanberry Crab
-apple Rowanberry
that syncopated another’s drive—
Memory insists that I stand on a bank of the River Tolka,
upstream from Socrates
and his garden of roses,
those colours we tasted–
For here is the place
that we committed him
to memory
that black water–
Glas Naíon,
the stream of the infants,
with petals,
with flower-heads.
© C. Murray
Chris Murray 