Welsh Odyssey #4

(Rough Draft)
Sandmartins burrow through shifting towers.
Pilgrim paths, still visible and walked, 
wind around and around the conical mount.

One day, the acoustics of
a battle-scream reverberated
around this three-sided bay,

the Irish Sea rolling red 
the virgin sand,
- a new DNA to mix with the old.

The screams now belong to children,
cast away from appropriating hands.
Some, in a feat of engineering,
have dug culverts and dams to divert
the course of a stream,
flowing over granite onto 
the expansive beach.

Who can count the grains of sand? 
Or the dreams and neuroses of children?

©Andrew James Murray

3 thoughts on “Welsh Odyssey #4

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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