Bishop's Pool: A Poem
/By Ciarán O'Rourke:
This poem has roots
in the sea, and time:
in Bishop's Pool, when
we slipped the plunging sun...
and let the wrack-
blue waters
haul and hold, com-
pletely plumb
our bodies' bird-boned,
drifting shiver
down to the merrow
dark below,
where breakers
breathe
and the green foam
drops
a hundred ways
to shadow: yes,
dropped and spilled
our names afresh
as salt, and sand,
and a wind awash
with things we bring
to the sea's flame,
which now (and
every wanting season)
lay claim
to us again:
five shipwrecked
mountains, dreaming mist,
the cuckoo's eye,
the brimming nest,
the latch in the voice
and lift of pain,
the flit of a swallow
in a flense of rain,
the wave in the blood
and the swimming stone
that flows and falls
by breath alone –
like the ghosts we knew
on given nights,
soft as seals
in the soundless light.
About the author: Ciarán O'Rourke was born in 1991 and is based in Dublin. He has won the Lena Maguire/Cúirt New Irish Writing Award and the Fish Poetry Prize. His first collection, The Buried Breath, is published by Irish Pages Press (November 2018).