Chris
Neenan lives in Rome, Italy, where he mixes two careers:
English consultant at Italy's Central Bank, Banca d'Italia, and
Professor of English at John Cabot University, Rome. "Both
careers have driven me to writing poetry, but only recently, much like
illuminating manuscripts drove 7th century Irish monks to scribbling
poems as marginalia." Recently, Chris's poetry has appeared in Stirring
and Dublin Writers' Workshop's Electric Acorn.
Immortal Bird
You were there in the kitchen waiting
for the night to end
for a wall to open
light sprang a trap for you in it
then slipped out
closing the door behind it
it hung from a nail in the wall
and you pattered around
to share some of it
that is what you wanted
we heard you go on
for hours
battering the soft fabric
inside the darkness
outside in tall trees
a bright moon worked
light over fields
and fresh hay
the cut green smell folded
under the slit
of the door
you picked carefully your night
you used your many ways
to tell us
mother was slipping out
after the light
and after fixing her hair
