Month: July 2015

Emigrant

To the Motherland for a while –
It is clear that I must visit the Sea –

Pick up the familiar clasts and cast them into the surf –

The headlands that I can trace in my sleep, as familiar as the back of my hands (changing with age, wind and sun) –

The sound of the waves, hypnotic and addictive, never easy to leave –

Easier knowing they will always be there, indeed there will always be an Ireland, long after we are all gone.

   
   

Messages

In evening sun –
Incense burning with birdsong ~
Reading old poems.

In evening sun –
Incense burning, with birdsong ~
A Woman’s Message.

In evening sun –
Incense, burning with birdsong ~
Old poems, reread.