

| On top of the mountain, a
school, a monastery... I take the road up to the bells. (The bells are a childhood memory!) Monks are at prayer. Birds at laughter. Bells peal in still blue air. I am afraid of the wall of woods though Afraid of the sea below, the shadow: (Lest I fall!) 'Come back down, you!' Waves roar in blackening sky |
'You will die for you
carry your grave with you And many's the worm!' I settle in my little cell. It is not home: Sea wind Comes in cracks in my skull... I climbed the whole way up the mountain to an open wound rooted in the dead In the ground is my very own Clump of slime green clay Might not have ever been or Having been is now but more! Padraig Fiacc |