A MATTER OF SOME REGRET Poem by Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh

A MATTER OF SOME REGRET



No, I'm not so depressed
As to stay
Under the duvet
All day
That would be an exaggeration

It's just that
My eye
Gladdened at the sight of you,
Stranger,
Left behind
Last night

And this morning
There's a taste of stout
And regret
In my mouth.

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