Unfinished In Connemara

UNFINISHED IN CONNEMARA Small drizzle - or sea spray? Wets the face - not enough to teardrop. Above a cold damp brow, Beads edging down the black wool - Not heavy enough to run, nor wet enough to drip. Tiny Atlantic turbulence in my hatted ear : Flurrying, blustering squalls. Buffets of whetted wind Bring back Connemara When she was there. As in a seashell. ............................................................ Note.........Connemara is a bleak but beautiful remote part of Ireland - always rainy and windy