By The Muir Éireann: Waiting for my Love to Come Home

By the Muir Éireann

The smoothness of your skin,
sleek face and pointed chin,
clarifies, enhances your eyes.
An oyster-shaped mouth smiling –

red lips, opened – an intriguing twang
springing from the larynx, compels
me to wander to the Muir Éirean.
A fierce wind whistles over my shoulder

at dusk; your embroidered headscarf,
a wild element decorated with tiny shells,
cloaks my head on the shoreline,
keeping me warm until you come home.

Back to Love, Loss & Relationship

More from the archive:

Beautiful Pussy Willow

some things are meant to be secret