The new year starts now
In the dark of a cold night
According to the ancestors
Summer was the glory
Autumn the harvest
At Summer’s end
All the full finished roots
Pulled out of the soil
Before the freeze
The fruits picked
The slaughter and salting
Of the meat
The seeds collected
The liberty caps gifted
To the seekers of secrets

The dark and cold
Invite the ghosts
To play in the blustering trees
In the howling seas
In the music of wind
And in the strange poetry
Of fires dotting the blackness
With the guisers and mummers
Collecting gifts for the dead
Or just themselves
With the treat or threat
Of a trick from otherworlds

Summer’s end
Another year’s end
According to the old ways
So here’s a treat for the dead
Who roam this hallowed even
Who ushered me into these days
In the midst of their own lives
And are now ghosts
Playing in the blustering trees
In the wrestling seas
In the keening of winds
And in the warming myth
Of bon-fires shocking the blackness
With the bold young guisers
And mummers sifting gifts
For the sheer excitement
Of daring to walk amongst the spirits
And the threat or treat
Of a trick from otherworlds



Roddy McDevitt

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