by Mary McKSchmidt | May 18, 2026 | Poetry, 2026
The four eyes onthe flame-colored wings of the peacock appearto have eyes onlyfor a flower so prolific as to be an eyesore tothe meticulous gardener. A long-distance traveler like the painted lady chooses not the dainty whitecups of the...
by Mary McKSchmidt | May 11, 2026 | 2026, Poetry
As I walk a farm lane in Leitrim, the cat, dressed in a tuxedo of black fur with stark-white trim, trails ten paces behind me. “Every day I walk long miles, sometimes hard miles, sometimeslong and hard and still it doesn’t help.” I turn and Cat’s piercing green...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Apr 27, 2026 | Poetry, 2026
All week I’d been waiting for weatherthat would facilitate a safe climb upCroagh Patrick, this holiest of mountains hiked by pilgrims for over 5,000 years. It is said the patron saint of Ireland fasted40 days atop this mountain and every year on the third Sunday of...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Apr 20, 2026 | 2026, Poetry
How thrilled I was watching the dark pawsof the red fox prancingacross the farmyardat dawn. How badly I felt for the slaughtered chickens and for the farmerwho gifted us eggswhen we first arrived and how hard it was to discover the chickensand tell the farmerand...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Mar 23, 2026 | 2026, Poetry
A third of the way across the Bandon River bridge,gale winds threaten to hurl me off the sidewalk and onto the path of the oncoming cars. I am loatheto admit defeat, turn back, retrace hard-won steps enroute to the fort, the first one built to defend the harbor. And...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Mar 8, 2026 | Poetry, 2026
Only the bedspread is blue, a bedroom where bay windows are a lens into life inside a forest. It is not the sunny vista discussed every morning she awakened to my presence, but in this room every morning, I feel her presenceand am anything but blue. “Hello, my...
