Autumn Reprise
Some people said yesterday in Ireland changed - that it was cold where it had been warm. In truth it depended on which door you went out.
I went out the back door and it was warm.
On my way back from the police station ( remember?) I stopped to photograph the bark of a tree. Then I changed my mind and just looked at it for an indulgent three minutes until I was disturbed by the swirling leaves on the ground.
Hey, I said to myself quietly for I’m jumpy when shouted at, the leaves do that in Kansas City. And look, I said to myself in reply, they’re all manner of colours just like fall in America. And I thought of all the people who used to tell me that we don’t have trees in Ireland.
And I thought of this conversation. And so did the Garda seemingly for he wrote a very short letter for me for the Irish Customs. It said that he was “satisfied that Eolaí gan Fhéile leaves at the following address”.
And I was worried because he hadn’t said he was satisfied that “Eolaí gan Fhéile arrives” at the same address.
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
