The Test of the Bow and Others
by Thomas O’Grady
Lone Fiddler, Johnson’s Court, Dublin by Fionán O’Connell
THE TEST OF THE BOW
Remembering Michael Coleman
Before he faced the suitors in the hall,
He proved himself by plucking high-strung gut
Until it hummed a single note. So pure
It sang-a ringing, feathered bolt of sound-
That even brazen bucks (their noisy brawl
An antidote for doubt) fell still; around
The walls skirts quivered for the first strong cut,
The larksome thrill of severed air.
So sure,
Then, one man stood above this throng, elbow
Arced, fingers poised to throw them into thrall.
What goddess nodded portent from the door?
He bowed toward his muse, that blood should flow:
Brash bodies moved, then shoved to fill the floor.
He proved himself the master of them all.
Tags: Thomas O'Grady