1. The day before I went to see the Book of Kells, Cork and Meath had…
Celtic
Blue the sea, blue the sky, blue the islander’s eye. Grey of rock and rock and…
Once, in a field towards the sea, In a place where all fields are towards the…
1. An indigo blanket, miles of moving folds, what limbs of what giant in its bed…
Said God, seeing the rest was good, “let’s go for something incomparably odd: an avant-garden, clodless,…
On the leeside of a white cottage near Kilmurvey, I saw, as I passed by on…
Someone described the winter sea off Inismore as aubergine. Now it is merely an indeterminate lead.…
I do not have the words for them- these trees- full grown they are, so trees,…
Here, at the top of a ridge to which the road clings, is the edge of…
Lough Doo was not meant for this blue forgetful levity, sun shining. Lough Doo is best…
He would have had something to say about the Conor Pass that grey morning; a last…
It will seem like silence when you first step into it: porous, soaking up sound: but…
Fingers of afternoon sun knead the green. What water has already sculpted the sun brings into…