At Kilmurvey Beach

By Stephen Shields


Eyeballed, you are structured on the wind,

rigid but for fan and wink of feather,

plotter of the strain and stretch in weather

devising new heights you ascend.

I breathe your pivot and your bend,

taste the salt in your ride on air,

name your moment, named like prayer:

Prayer, a parabola of wing and wind.


Carious rockmouths dribble in futile bite,

gnashing waves bow backs, then press their lips,

sift and glaze the tint of this still life.

Reds, browns, yellows lift and bloom as polyps.

On each orison remnants glitter in retreat,

innocent rainbows stooped by talons of the deep.