County Kerry

In the morning I woke up in Ireland
I was sleeping off a London hangover,

From coffee shops and pubs sprinkled along a labyrinth  of ancient winding streets

I heard the gentle rain announce its own arrival on the roof above,

And stepped outside to watch clouds born in the Atlantic dissipate into  green hills;

Like smoke from from pagan rites in ceremonies long forgoten

Later that same day…

One of the most beautiful women I had known pointed out a June blooming flower called fusia

  -A name she intended to give to her first daughter – while walking along paths in the forest 

And soon we rounded a corner and stumbled across the ruins of a cottage

The only wall remaining held an empty doorway;

As if the space had created the strength to keep it standing