It was one of those days when God forgot

He had created light. We followed the graphite road

Pencilling its determined way across Mayo.

The mist rolled back in its faintness

And the car shot through, as if

We knew exactly where we were going

And we might be able to return.

Townlands and parishes changed

Their names as we drove, defying childhood Irish.

In thorn-bush and furze, birds cowled under

The unmanageable tonnage. Feathered in a sheen

Of permanent rain, tongueless crows watched us,

Eyes diamante. Big boiled sheep, waterlogged

In shagged wool, appeared and disappeared

Under the pulsing clouds, as we drove on,

Beyond the innocence of living.

And then, from outer space, the sun sent its beams

Searching the byways and hedgerows for wonder

And found it in us.

In the simple brilliance of realisation, our souls uncoupled

Their safety-belts and floated free.


Ron Carey Poetry