The Third Omen

Yesterday afternoon, after the skip was taken away, I went out to mow the grass.  Amongst the growth on the lawn near the stream I found a single tall weed with vaguely familiar leaves, and mowed around it.  I am pretty sure that it grew from some old rabbit food that had been stored in the shed since that disastrous Christmas in 2007, and which I found and threw out to the birds a month or so back, when I started clearing the garage.

It seems to be a sunflower.


About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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