This poem is inspired by the artwork of a very talented rising star, Nell Rogers. I hope to post more of her work in the future.
Coucher de soleil
There are waves between us and so many sunsets,
songs fire-hued, ripple across the years,
voices long-dead only half-remembered,
and how do I tell you stories you cannot see?
Suns set in the falling rain, colour of fire and roosting birds,
and still I hear those voices, calm and eternal as cliff-top cairns
weighted with lichen and the heavy touch of the aos sí,
the last sight of home from the trough of white waves.
I hear, and you draw in the threads,
the ship rocked beyond returning,
you and I both in the light of so many sunsets,
listen to the gentle songs of sleepy birds,
recall the wind’s song among grey sea-bound stones.
The Four Swans 