A Cruel Month

Sean Maguire with a poem from a published collection of his work.

Death loomed, in rustic space,
rustling leaves, whispered dead man
Scented flowers, sent his head
one last soaking, in April showers.

There was no last-minute reprieve,
all signs of hope disappeared;
his body trembled with fear.

A mud-stained rope, tied feeble
seconds before the deadly plan;
was executed to the full.

➽Se├ín Maguire has been writing poetry, song lyrics, short stories and non-fiction for over thirty years and has had a considerable amount of his work published in magazines, newspapers, anthologies and online blogs. The above poem is taken from his collection For Those Left Behind.

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