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
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