An homage to Middle Abbey Street, Dublin

Middle Abbey Street, Dublin

is a suntrap.

On a clear day, just as noon ding dongs its approach,

Sitting behind the glass of a café window on the northside of the street,

early summer will broadcast its arrival

– warming your hair, your face, your shoulders, your back, your being.

 

Sun shadows will throw themselves across the floor,

Catching dust in their wake

Capturing the contradictory density of light.

 

Middle Abbey Street, Dublin

is a suntrap.

On a bright day, just as lunch time busies its approach,

Sitting behind the glass of an old bar window at the top of the street

afternoon heat will rise and accumulate

calling your face, your shoulders and  your closed eyes to the sun.

 

Glinting light will bounce from a passing Luas,

Catching the speed of dreams,

Hibernating since last year’s July fervour.

 

Middle Abbey Street, Dublin

Is a suntrap.

On a bright, clear day, just as tea time slows in its approach,

Sitting on the stepped stone of a bookshop in the middle of the street

Evening sun will splinter light into prisms

Casting rainbows all around your being.

 

Middle Abbey Street, Dublin

is a suntrap built for the realisation of awakenings

Once thought long lost and almost forgotten.

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