Castle Bar

Castlebar Connemara marble seems plain when held in a young boxers hand Coming alive when touched by his father Alive with green-ness Alive with time -no longer on the old mans side looking down now at cut granite hands that once set him free Free to leave Castlebar the beach at Roundstone the beautiful Anya Quinn and a mundane life And the white handkerchief? the one she waved from the dock? until it became a dot, a speck, then a memory shared with others in her Eulogy