Salt waves and red rowans

Jane Dougherty Writes

For C.

Painting by Monet.

Salt waves and red rowans

There are times and days
when rain falls straight to the quick,
fills hollow bones and bilges
of the boat with white sails,
but the sails are still full, course set.

Sea, wave-chopped, wrinkled,
a silk garment from the days
when riches were a childhood,
a full belly, and dreams
of sailing to the honey land.

On this windswept hill,
beneath rain and bare-leafed trees,
I smell salt waves, hear the north
sing its songs of rowans
red, thrushes and the coming spring.

View original post

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.