In the shadow of St. Patrick’s Catholic Cathedral lies a graveyard, falling each day further and further into disrepair and slowly being eaten away by the daily Irish rain.  I walked through it one afternoon during an unusual burst of sunlight, and I found that the place had an unusual pull on me.  I have oft wandered old cemeteries alone and wondered about life and what happens when it is gone, but this particular place had a hold on me.  There is something about the rich history of Armagh, the way that it’s people lived and consequently died, that left a strange desire in my heart–the desire to look further into the interplay of darkness and light, the result of decay, and the way that it all came crashing down in Ireland during the troubles.

“Blue”

Amidst the ashen stone
Slowly working its way
Into dust, and the headstones
Crying out in their final
Fleeting attempts to be heard
The blue door stands guard
Ailing in a sacred shadow
Losing the battle with the sun
To retain its original colour
One day it will not remember
Itself or why it fought so hard
To hold its hue