I haven't moved from my chair

yet I feel washed-up on a far shore

as if the boat I was in

came apart in the tide.

I looked for a keel, a rudder, a mast, a boom,

but perhaps it was a currach

and the graceful swoop and flat of it

was taken into the depths.

The depths ---

where all my treasures went.

The depths ---

where any stowaways went too.

Somehow, this windswept 'I'

washed up on an island

and that is a bit like being pulled

into a dream, a song, a trance.

Just ask Brendan or Maelduin.

image: Gonz DDL

currach: an ancient boat design used in Ireland and Scotland