Autumn In Duhallow Poem by Francis Duggan

All we have are our memories of the past
And sadly memory in some people till death does not last
Some lose their gift of memory which does seem so sad
For some things most of us take for granted we ought to feel glad

In fancy i can hear the gales of Autumn roar
Above the old high fields of green Claramore
And old Clara is cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And storm-water is flowing in every dyke and drain

And new fallen Autumn leaves by the swirling winds blown up and down
On the roadway to Rathmore just west of Millstreet Town
Autumn in Duhallow weather-wise a changeable time of year
And with each passing day Winter drawing ever near

To the old fields of Duhallow from here far away
When the overnight frost at morning leaves the countryside looking gray
The memories of what was in me living on
But the now is all that matters since the past it has gone.