Cobh Rocks
On a long car journey
Through the back roads
To the Beara Peninsula
We happen upon
A standing stone
Old power watching
Over the rebel landscape
With its slow lichen coat
High cliffs over the Celtic Sea
The edge drops away
To the waves below
The horizon is drawn
In epic colours
That look out and in
With the industry
Of their quiet reflection
Early morning
And at any time
Where and when?
They play the sounds of the sea
Our hearts in our heads
On the Port of Cobh
The tangled mass of the catch
Weighs heavy on the arrangements
Bright colours, black rubber
Faces in the weights