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
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
