An earthy man, my father—

 his name means ‘Rock’

 

I’ve always thought there was

something sentimental in the sediment

wrapped up cold in blue-grey basalt but

with the hint of something more

veins of chalk-white hidden deep within

that sing of something missing

of cold Irish nights

washed by the salt spray

catching in your clothes and

soaking into the soft skin of your boots

looking out over a sea

ravenous and angry

Cailleach kissing at your fingers and

 your ears you lit by a fire of

pride and power burning behind

 all-too-fragile bone

witnessing Manannan watching wide-eyed from the safety of

a fair and

 mellow isle

aye—

 

An earthy man

warm and welcoming

like a peat fire.