Libby Hart – Ⅳ
North Wind
It shook me about at Mullaghmore.
The Atlantic reminding my southern body
of all the unruly things that exist here.
And my love for its uncontrollable self
grew into veneration at Ballyconnell
as we watched each wave strike black rock.
The moment being great commotion
even while the sun shone like biblical etching.
We sat without words
as your car rocked a mad lullaby.
Later you’d build a turf fire
and the scent of it beckoned earth
so completely inside the room
that all my thoughts flew to Bricklieve.
And in my mind’s eye
I travelled with velocity and turbulence.
I travelled with the north wind
because it’s where I gather strength.
It’s where I exist in full fathom,
even when I’m shaken and shaking.
It shook me about at Mullaghmore.
The Atlantic reminding my southern body
of all the unruly things that exist here.
And my love for its uncontrollable self
grew into veneration at Ballyconnell
as we watched each wave strike black rock.
The moment being great commotion
even while the sun shone like biblical etching.
We sat without words
as your car rocked a mad lullaby.
Later you’d build a turf fire
and the scent of it beckoned earth
so completely inside the room
that all my thoughts flew to Bricklieve.
And in my mind’s eye
I travelled with velocity and turbulence.
I travelled with the north wind
because it’s where I gather strength.
It’s where I exist in full fathom,
even when I’m shaken and shaking.