After the Combines, After the Flames

The chapel fell into ruin
when new combine harvesters
did away with the need for workers.
Ivy climbs through the roof
and only the wind rings the bell
to call the dead to mass.

The village sank into the peat;
moss growing where once
womenfolk shared gossip
over the daily chores.
Dandelion and comfrey flower
where children played in the dirt
crying “Mama! Mama!”
over some imagined injustice.

Crabgrass flourishes over cobbles.
No more songs cheer the air
amidst the stink of sweat and barley
and good, honest toil.

But the chapel is for sale .
Forty thousand euros
for space to park a four-by-four.

'Old Gate Lodge, Clonlara, Co Clare'
3 ½" x 2 ½"
$25