Currachs, like upturned whales beached
as musical notation on the quay.
Those sleek, mussel shelled torpedoes
ready to cleave though
wavewalls, green and white-tipped,
chasing schools of quick-silver with
hand-strung nets tuned to their scales.
Rhythmic fingers conduct these vessels
in ancient songs that harmonise
with an underwater chorus,
carrying the music booming deep through the years,
where the call and response of the tides
meets the Blasket sound of memory.
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