In his grandmother's house in Killester
He sinks into the bed, the same scene
A fascination with old things, dark beads
Hanging over the reposing statue
The super-glued head and the pisces robe
They have their own little histories,
The virgin is standing amid Christmas's cottages
And brass bells that gather dust on the mantle piece
Like him they seem to have left themselves
In place, tired of it, waiting for the blind to come up.
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Submission Name: Canto II
