sea glass

a poem

I heard a crowing crudely
To his own brood bray

By haggard droves of drowning
Drunks interred of boasted throats

And daggered up the coast in spools
To shoot for the bardo:

The last good gasp of Kearney's men
To be gathered up in boats

photo by the author (taken in Kearney Village, Co. Down, where stories tell of the ‘she-cruiser’, a 19th century fishing vessel crewed entirely by women)