It's been fifteen years I remember and now I'm fifty four <br />Since I last walked from Millstreet Town along the roadway to Rathmore <br />The fields of Inchaleigh and Claraghatlea North lit by the moon's faint light <br />And stars shone in the heavens on that November night. <br /> <br />The frostiness of late Fall blew in the freshening breeze <br />And the rustling sound of the dried leaves falling from the road side trees <br />I was walking for the last time where I had often walked before <br />Towards my home in Claraghatlea North on the roadway to Rathmore. <br /> <br />The wild cry of the dog fox out searching for a mate <br />In late Fall the strong urge in his kind a family to create <br />He found his mate and he spent with her three days and nights or four <br />And they mated in a furzy patch by the roadway to Rathmore. <br /> <br />I could even see the steel cross at the top of Clara Hill <br />And I could hear the familiar babbling of the little Glasheen Rill <br />But on that night the wanderlust was in me and my thoughts were of a distant shore <br />As I walked home in the moonlight on the roadway to Rathmore.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-in-october-2001/
