Dawn highlights the East
while becoming towards it
the tide patterns paper tigers
on the wet silent sand
oblivious of the night short-lived
naked in a pristine bath
Magherabeg glistens with gold;
straight after a single breath
a far-flung rest of the wind
the waves slow to an interlude
extended by awe, by the vision
of today’s displaying.
(the journey within the light
of the day we followed, peaked
at midday for a blinding gaze
at the fields of Ireland, thriving)
Passed a hundred lakes
we reach the line of an edge
at Aughrusbeg, silver pledge
welcoming pot of mussels
and a lamb under the sand
tendered by hot round stones
Feasting by the rippling shore
mouthes to thank the gods for
a shot of whisky, a shot of vinegar
and the songs shouted to sea,
with the eyes at rest on the last red view
of today displayed.