Blue the sea, blue the sky, blue the islander’s eye.
Grey of rock and rock and rock.
Black the stacked curraghs;
Birds on twilight wire;
Black the space between the stars.
White the gull feather:
White Kilmurvey strand;
There is white in the goat’s unreciprocating gaze.
Everywhere the dash of robin;
Red in leeside flowerpots;
Red the mooring buoys of lobster pots
Empty on Kilronan pier.
Lichen is spread gold;
So the hair of my arm in cliff-top sun;
Night-golden Galway pulses.
Blue and grey and black.
White, red and golden.
Rock on rock on rock.
And again.
