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The Test of the Bow and Others

March 3rd, 2009 | No Comments | Posted in Poetry, Visiting Artists

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.
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