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Anthony McKee
Poems
May 2013
Tír Chonaill
Bells toll across glens
Calling barren lands to greet
Its Gospel, the Word.
Gunfire rumbles, a
Hungry scream echoes over
The waves, to Tory.
Wind howls. The windows,
Small, chatter:
Níl aon tinteán
*Mar do thinteán féin.
Written by
Anthony McKee
Belfast
(Belfast)
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