POETRY

Wind in My Hair

A poem for The Lark poetry competition — runner-up poem

Sea-salt singing wind whips my hair back it kisses my skin leaving freckles and light tan

Coast of my youth catches my breath by beauty cliffs like cathedrals rise above the shore

I hiked high hills with my father, wordless company pointing out birds, hares, deer, glimpsing a fox

So many rocks clambered on, rock pools watched fossils seen, shells collected, photographs taken

My soul has rest here, in Ireland too they are cut the same, or handfasted

My mind drifts there each Luna Sagh my daughter named it for her legends

History has traitors here, at the castle twice over the stab in the back, family then war

An area of land owners, titles, wealth but beauty is this place’s great treasure