‘Rented Cottage’ by Michael Dooley

Narrow but fat as a plinth it sat
behind flowers of a regional road –
Smaller than I had first thought. 
Rain plashed the half-door; its siding
A curt veneer when water slipped
Inside its walls; embarrassed to see us, as we it.

At the end of the darkness, crows tune up
Their kitchen roof rook – an orchestra at dawn.
We wake in crescendo. Or across
Unsealed windows: the strange night-bellow
Of wired-off bull; his opened lungs –
basso profundo – scenting out on stillness.

We will leave this place to find our own, and you will be sorry: 
‘Abandoner!’ you will cry, ‘Who will feed the cats?’
Committed to its ditch, it will grow small –
Slates will weather in lichen and ivy,
And become a roost for the pipistrelle
Whose young will breach in August and answer to our names.

From issue #4: spring/summer 2017

About the Author
Michael Dooley’s poems have appeared in the Irish Independent, Poetry Ireland Review, The Stinging Fly, and online at RTE Culture. He has had work shortlisted for awards including the Patrick Kavanagh Award, the Strokestown International Poetry Competition, and the Cúirt New Writing Prize. His debut collection is forthcoming from Doire Press.