Postcard. A poem by Amy Barry

I haven’t heard from you
a postcard of Powerscourt Gardens;
pink hydrangea, celestine orchid,
marble statues and urns.

Your scribbles read in a blur.

In the silence of a spring/summer hiatus,
some citrine, some pink,
squint through their leaves,
a shadow reels under magnetite sky,
clouds are the colour of bones.

Somewhere someone weeps.


Amy Barry writes poems and short stories. She is published in anthologies, journals, and press and e-zines globally, including Southword, The Blue Nib, Sunday Tribune, Paris Lit Up, The Opiate. Her poems have been translated into many languages. She was featured in the RTE Radio One Extra in Reverberations Series 2, Nov.2019. Amy was recipient of the Westmeath County Council Bursary 2017. She has performed her work in Ireland and internationally.


  1. As always Amy’s work is of a high standard and she is a bright star in these darkest of times. She is totally devoted to her craft and I love her style and enjoy the depth of her verse.

    1. Many thanks, Eugene. Appreciate very much your kind words.
      Stay safe.

  2. Wonderful turn of phrase, Amy. Magical.

    1. Hi Niamh, thanking you for the comments.


  3. Great colours (as always) in your piece Amy. A cracking read.

    1. Appreciate your kind comments, Eamon.
      Thanks & Cheers.

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