Crab Orchard Review Vol. 12, No. 2, our

Melanie Martin
Winter Solstice at Newgrange
Seventeen minutes of sunlight
in this burial mound of stone and turf.
We shuffle down a passageway
sixty feet long and even in the crisp April air
I feel the walls narrow, a breath on my neck.
Layered limestone and quartz,
corbelled roof and Neolithic spirals,
zigzags carved into walls
could be maps of the stars,
maps of the afterworld
or the changing of seasons,
an understanding even then
that new life follows death.
Here is the chamber, three side alcoves,
stone basin of granite or sandstone
to hold the dead’s remains.
Offerings were pendants
or polished stone balls,
beads made from bone.
A votive offered coins and jewels
on the mound’s top.
No arrow shafts or axes of jadeite,
no tools for the afterlife.
144 ◆ Crab Orchard Review