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On top of the mountain, above the clouds, we lay back on the picnic benches.

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On top of the mountain, above the clouds, we lay back on the picnic benches. And wait. Our eyes adjust from the passing headlights to the dark. The stars perk up. I see the milky way for the first time. Do not blink. Carefully watching the Perseus constellation. A meteor scratches at the earth’s atmosphere and burns itself up. Then another. Silent fireworks. I grip the bench, the only thing keeping me here. A tear falls from my eye. Colliding with a shooting star, it sizzles out.

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Niamh O’Connell

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Niamh O’Connell holds an MA in Writing Poetry from Newcastle University. She believes in the power an hour-long daily walk can confer to commune with nature, and she hopes to impart this in her work. She has previously been published in UCC’s The Quarryman. She currently resides in Cork.

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","title":"Dark Sky Reserve","date":"February 24, 2021","issue_number":{"issueNumber":"Issue 1"},"featuredImage":null},"previous":{"uri":"/literature/poetry/opening-a-termite-mound/","title":"Opening a Termite Mound"},"next":{"uri":"/literature/poetry/hurricane/","title":"Hurricane"}},"pageContext":{"id":"cG9zdDo2ODg=","previousPostId":"cG9zdDo2OTE=","nextPostId":"cG9zdDo2ODU="}}, "staticQueryHashes": ["3240029854","848497233"]}