Our little dog tore off,
Together with a black cat,
An ill omen, we thought,
To be realised by the day.
As we pulled up on the gravel road,
We began to bounce and felt the sleep fall away,
A little too soon,
And aggressive like our aged parents.
Rain on the windshield,
It relaxed us,
Assuaged our misgivings of an early morning,
But stepping into it…
She brought her swimsuit,
And I love her for it,
Such a venerous belief,
In the grey beaches of Ireland.
But the squals,
The vicious, pirate birds above us,
Redeemed our hope or our youth,
The ragged notes like alarms from the past.
We settle on a bench,
And don’t even bother to descend,
And blowing steam on our icy hands,
She grabs me by the wrist,
And pulls me to the other side,
Jumps atop my lap,
And curls her body into the shape of mine,
Just to warm me up.
The day breaks,
And the grey light is effervescent again,
Reflecting off every surface,
And off the green gloss on her eyes.