Across the Sound by Daragh Breen.

Across the Sound

The horizon is a mess of mizzle
Like gathered stage-curtains
Behind which the world is
Constantly trying to slip.

Across the Sound

Seven-night gales had been
Known to rip sheer rocks
From these bird-shocked cliffs.
As if the island had been
Offered up by the mainland,
An inhabited storm-wall
As if the island had been
Jettisoned, a large block of
Night heaved into the sea.
Across the Sound, Shards from the history of an Island is by Daragh Breen, November Press. 2003

This small book was a gift. I excerpted two wee pieces from it as Autumn is coming in, thus my trips to the place in the west will be not as frequent. The words contain almost a hunger to describe the island, the sea and the west of Ireland in it’s storm-damaged reality. Some of the images remind me of a view from Roman Island in Mayo and some indeed remind me of the Arnold Bax composition, The Garden of the Fand.

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