A wall, a wall, no immigrants call,
the waves erode the present to reveal the forest of the past,
pools of reflection trapped in ancient residues,
tell the eternal story of the moving skies.
Here where the sand is written with stories that are ever changing,
the past is a presence, and the future is a wave that will wash it all away.
Ciaran Burke
Sruwaddacon Bay 2nd November 2017 A solitary shell, open, empty, unwanted; filled with the gases we call air. Broken, divided, it can […]
Kelly’s Bay 15th August 2017 A coffee stop, a place to sit and sip, hidden beneath the wall beyond the bay road; […]
Meeogahane Pier 24th August 2017 The Currachs rest, sleeping seaweed wears the oceanic gloss. Salt water teases, each wave, a lick, a […]
Ballyheigue, Beach 24th August 2017 A crack in the darkness laid silver on to the bay. Seaweed debris told the tale of […]
