Susan Connolly
To be quiet as a piece of flint lying on a hillside -
to let time wash over me wasn't enough:
I had to be that stone broken in two -
and live with my core exposed as a rough surface.
Time kept striking my broken halves together, forcing sparks out of me
- a stone's tears ...
today I see how
time has worn me away
Page 64, Poetry Ireland Review Issue 28