Air an t-slighe air ais à Reachrainn b’eambàtabeagabh’ann, eathar-motair le caban agus suidhichean-deireadh fhosgailte. ‘Bidh sibh bog fluich a-muigh a shin’ thuirt fear a’ bhàta, agus bha e ceart – bhris na tuinn thar an toisich,gar drùidheadh sa spot agus sàl gar slugadh ’s gar n-aoibhneachadh’s ged a rùisg sinn am muir le ur n-aodach […]
I don’t know how long you have been standing
or how many times they put you back together –
‘Do it now, say it now, don’t be afraid.’
/ Wilhelmina Barnes-Graham
/
/ Your house with its lovely
/ light studio overlooking the…
Did you say it’s made of waves?
/ Yes, that’s it.
/ I wonder what the waves are made of.
/ Oh, waves are made of…
The surf choruses salted ritual,
/ the crescendo of milky waves turn on each other
/ and then the shore rolls up and out…
for Erin
/
/ To understand everything about the swell—
/ how on a given day the seventh in the cycle
/ provides he greatest chance to…
lapping of the little waves
/ breaking of the little waves
/ spreading of the little waves
/ idling of the little waves
/
/ rippling of the little…
