Finding the Real Ireland ~ A poem by Jilly O’Brien

Finding the Real Ireland

There she goes
flying along Inch Strand
flaxen mane and lightning hooves
thundering the low-lit sand spit
long red tresses a banner unfurled
before the green – gowned harp
sounds, sing-songing a tongue
only Tuatha de Danann understand

Her lover is a merman
sailing his coracle across strip-shiny sea
slipping like treacle over the side
into water where hair coils
like wet rope over seal – blinking eyes.
He tiptoes the bladderwrack
and eats silvery fishes

In Limerick boys are racers
kicking their horses
to go faster
down the motorway
between the rubbish fires.
A man walks a fox on a lead
and throws his empties into oncoming traffic

Girls share what they have
somewhere not on Trip Advisor.
The dark haired one with cracked lips
her dress isn’t a dress
she likes the smell of chips and hot water though
could be allergic to horses
often runs across the road without looking.

Jilly O’Brien

Jilly O’Brien is an award winning poet and psychologist, living on the Otago Peninsula in Otepoti, Dunedin. Jilly has had poems published in journals and anthologies worldwide. She has had her poetry displayed on the ice in Antarctica, on beaches in Dunedin, and on the back of parking tickets.

You can find more here;

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