First Family
Horizons and horizons
Across twilight’s clouded
Irish sea,
That’s where you are.
That’s where I’m from.
And all the white horses
Can’t gallop me home, as my
Feet grow into the ground,
Breath grows into the air,
And ear grows into the sound
Of this mountainous, water-bound
Land.
Now arboreal,
Not aethereal;
No more a wisp cloud
Blown ‘cross the sea:
Roots reach into this earth
Where love’s fruit [...]