(No audio is available for this poem)

Sour Apple

O little sour apple of reason
You've laid out the truth clear and sane,
Now I see the dark and the brightness,
I'd rather be blinded again.

For a fool loves without any caution,
For a fool plays any childs game,
Ignorance has its own freedom,
O I wish to be foolish again.

O little sour apple of knowledge,
You lie in my palm as a pain.
I have bitten and tasted your wisdom,
I'd rather be simple again.

© Anne Le Marquand Hartigan

From
Long Tongue
by
Anne Le Marquand Hartigan.
Beaver Row Press, Dublin.

To read the Introduction by Brendan Kennelly Click Here