Concentric, lines in sand, pools between the tides, ancient sleeping stones.
Ribbons and limbs, seaweed scattered remains.
Sand dances to the tune of the wind, the red waves shout their stories, again and again.
All changing, ever moving, the stones they slowly change, they crack, they wear, yet still they sleep.
Ciaran Burke
Kilmore Quay Beach 17th March 2018 The horse trails, the evidence. A solitary soul, the witness. The harsh wind reports, the sea steals […]
Dooagh Beach 1st November 2017 The grains returned, movement of millions, smuggled by the ocean in the night. Lying golden for the […]
Rosslare Strand 2nd April 2017 Under the heavens’ azure floor, a chalice of copper lies, where a golden star fell from the […]
Seafield, Co. Clare 23rd August 2017 Bovine curiosity, silent watchers, chewing on the dunes. Flags slap, safety assured, the wind smacks, a […]
