Wednesday, November 18, 2015


(An enchanted creature who at certain times
can doff
her skin, accept a human mate.)

I had thought by some grave

misdemeanor to be doomed,
live as a selkie alone:
gentle shape-shifting,
uncanny eyes,

sometimes woman,
always mammal and lithe,
from my seal-skin crying
May no harm go with you:
Nar gabh olc ar bith agat.

Every seventh stream
I bask upon the shore,
yours the face I dream
when looking to the sun.

They say if you shed
seven tears at high tide
I will come to you
from Suleskerry,
and you have wept
a wave of poems.

If you coax me to your land,
if I slip off my coat,
will you hold it sweetly?
You, the pulse of my heart:
Ta tusa an chuisle mo chroi.

Published in Young Ravens Literary Review Fall, 2015

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