Falling Water
By Eoin Flannery
Water flows downwards,
it seeks the lowest point
before it stands in flood
or in shallows, settles,
awake with life and breath.
A bulb of water
drops from the sky,
no bigger than the pupil
of my daughter’s eye,
when it hits the ground –
cold, neat concrete –
the bulb explodes,
a wheel of colours
in the air
above the street,
the stain of ash and plastic
seared on the path,
a tiny shadow, the negative
image of the sky’s arched
light.
Eoin Flannery
Eóin Flannery is a writer and critic based in Limerick, Ireland. His poetry has appeared in The Honest Ulsterman; Libre; The Galway Review; Rochford Street Review; Red Ogre Review; Juniper; The Tiger Moth Review; the engine(idling; Cigarette Fire Magazine; Sparks Literary Journal; Inkfish Magazine and The Hog River Press. He is working on a collection of poems entitled, Unshadow.
Photo credit: Terry Vlisidis
Apricot Press 