First Visit To Dingle
The Atlantic pulsates.
.
Walls of water build up, green
and crash down, white, on brown sand.
The ocean foams.
.
Flotsam disappears in moments of undertow.
.
Smooth boulders embedded with shells
reach into the sea:
limpets and winkles cling to stony fingers
till the next high tide.
.
I climb as far as I dare
fighting the wind along the way.
I return as the tide quickens its pace
and waves wash the ridge
where I had stood
a few moments ago.
.
Clouds sweep the sky,
roll lively with high gales
then diverge
to show blue patches
and pull ragged shapes
from the shadow of a fog.
.
In the distance
the mountains are suddenly clear.
*
Biography
Lorraine Whelan is a writer and visual artist based in Ireland.