Glendalough Sonnet
Angela Patten

Glendalough Sonnet

Rain and relatives, relatives and rain.
In Glendalough’s monastic town,
a jackdaw baby thrusts his downy head
out of a round tower putlock and raises
an ungodly yellow beak. He squawks
at gawking tourists snapping cellphones,
the spines of their umbrellas dripping
on the ancient bullaun stones
where monks once mixed their potions
and the holywell was rich in lithium,
which turned out to be a remedy
for the occasional pilgrim who suffered,
as I do, from the watery weather
or a sodden slough of Celtic despond.

Angela Patten

is the author of three poetry collections: In Praise of Usefulness (Wind Ridge Books, 2014), Reliquaries (Salmon Poetry, 2007), and Still Listening (Salmon Poetry, 1999). Her prose memoir, High Tea at a Low Table: Stories from an Irish Childhood, was published by Wind Ridge Books in 2013. She teaches creative writing and literature at the University of Vermont.