Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Footprints





Footprints

See the clouds tumble down mountain ranges
like waves cascading on a waiting shore
see waves fall into the valley breaking
and we dive and we dive for evermore

beneath the eight bronze stallions grazing
beneath the three headed serpent tree
beneath the pond which swallows the moon
each footprint lost in the wash of the sea.


Our Week in Wicklow, 1974

  I recall 1974 when we were tossed around in a ferry like a rotten auld turnip on the turbulent belly of the Irish Sea, such was ...