Poetry has a way of coming in and out of my life. Last June, Josh and I hiked around the Great Blasket Island in Ireland. It was a ghost island, once inhabited by the strongest kind of human. A beautiful and severe place. You can see it just beyond Josh's head in the picture.
I stood out on the limb of a ghost island
There was a path before me to keep
me steady(though I am a unleveled soul)
All blue and thick was the way around me
All blue, as I face due North(this island undoes me)
I walked this soil with the one I love
My knees split and the wind cut
my heart
And I wondered if the past was speaking to me
O Ireland, so tough skinned.
you melt me
1 comment :
Wow, I did not know you wrote poetry. Very good. It is great to read through the blog and catch a glimps of life there in B. I miss y'all and found comfort in baked zity and at house pictures.
Love you guys,
LJ
Post a Comment