By The Connigar


In town, inland above the banks,
below the spire, the frozen hand of
Father Murphy points to sites for sale

to the seal at Knocknasillogue
which is there and then gone
slipping into memory like the vision

that a son has of his father
head back, canines on display
under sifting cliffs one lost dog day.


© Padhraig Nolan 2007