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Faith (Free verse) by Dovina

The drama of weather for people of the land city folk seldom understand It’s the drama of life of potato death in 1846 of wet sods beside a cold house in ’04 of essential gardens dying dry Pray for rain, we ask the priest who says he will but not until the wind is in the south Now the clouds look cumbersome not like they find it fun to skid across the sky Yet for all their solid look the south wind buffets them so at times brilliant sun flashes through And the priest prays But the clouds pass on delivering their favors to County Clare The priest could not be certain after all South wind can be mistaken

Dovina 26-Aug-04/2:01 PM
Early this summer, in the southwest of Ireland, rains did not fall in their usual abundance and the Catholic farmers prayed for rain or asked their priests to. This was unrelated to the potato famine except in the ageless dependence on rain, enough rain, not too much rain, of farmers who do not irrigate and have traditionally trusted their gods and priests.




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