Conor Ross: ‘Sensus communis’

Sensus communis

Memory has tied you to a word.
Are these knots that hold the boat to mooring
or bind the witch to pyre?
Are these rocks for the peine forte et dure
or the fisherman weighting his nets?
Is the silence of heaven the still of the doldrums
or a ballast?
The cosmos is named
and named. I have waited for you.

Conor Ross

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