An earthy man, my father—
his name means ‘Rock’
I’ve always thought there was
something sentimental in the sediment
wrapped up cold in blue-grey basalt but
with the hint of something more
veins of chalk-white hidden deep within
that sing of something missing
of cold Irish nights
washed by the salt spray
catching in your clothes and
soaking into the soft skin of your boots
looking out over a sea
ravenous and angry
Cailleach kissing at your fingers and
your ears you lit by a fire of
pride and power burning behind
all-too-fragile bone
witnessing Manannan watching wide-eyed from the safety of
a fair and
mellow isle
aye—
An earthy man
warm and welcoming
like a peat fire.