West Coast Ireland

by

Lois Francis


Not cold in Canadian prairie terms
not frosty and brittle with visible breath,
yet bleaker somehow in tree-stripped berms
of moss-covered rocks — of life close to death.

No shimmering sunlight blinding on snow,
no minus sixty — wind chill factored in —
but bone-numbing mist and damp, even so
penetrate slicker and jacket and skin.