And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,’  W.B. Yeats. last sunset fog rolling across the moor this new moon night is there time for one more breath, for one last kiss goodbye? For Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats: Day 10

‘Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna’s children died.’ W.B. Yeats Paris’ arrow Achilles’ bloodied tendon preceding his fall Conor’s sword fells Unis’  sons and Diedre’s shattered heart For Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats—Day 9

‘The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned;’ first blood she whispers in the dark “Are you inside?” shards of a shattered culture Strewn in the wake of my “yes” For Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats–Day 8