Audio: Read by the author.
The wind unshouldering rain,
they huddle into the concave
of the day by windowpane,
on chimney stack, then brave
a flight into eggshell sky, propel
from wet eaves and storeys
to unmoralize us out of allegories
into the metaphysic of green and purple.
Karl O’Hanlon lives in Maynooth, Ireland. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Hopkins Review, West Branch, Poetry, and PN Review. His debut chapbook is And Now They Range (Guillemot).
