In Duhallow

Just west of the Duhallow Town of Millstreet In the old rushy fields where the waterways meet Flood waters subsiding in the dawning gray As the salmon upriver to spawn swim their way In November in Duhallow in the late Fall of the year The songs of the birds one not likely to hear The cattle in the farmyard sheds are bellowing for silage or hay And the Winter draws nearer with each passing day The cawing of the rooks on the bare deciduous trees Is carrying some distance in the freshening breeze In the cold of the morning the hare in tawny brown Between the rushes to warm it's body does run up and down In late Fall in Duhallow in the wind and rain Brown storm water flowing in every field drain Only memories remain of the what used to be And the sounds and sights of Nature we heard and did see Under an overcast sky that was sunless and gray In November in Duhallow from here far away.