Bring Home A Rock
If you’re to bring home a rock,
Allow one that’s bright, veined
With crimson, yellow, mauve, or
Shows its hidden light in quartz.
Pick it from a beach, storied
Like a city with its people
Let it be one rubbed smooth
Or pierced ancient with seawater,
Crouch amongst them, allow
Daylight its search throughout
Its lines and hollows, address
Your waiting silence with breath
As sunset rusts a melt horizon,
Daubing its evening violent pink,
Molten orange, livid red, seabirds
Calls trawl the light as
Thrifty stars blink, waking
Over the slow rails of ships.
Shade it in a pocket, bring
It along Galway’s streets,
Busking voices trail open skies
Peppered with clouds and cobalt,
Let it rest in your palm,
Taking in waiting mountains
Silent for voices to guide it towards
Droplets salting from its form,
Not mist, nor rain.
Cormac Culkeen is a writer of poetry, fiction and short stories. He lives and works in Galway and is completing a BA Connect in Creative Writing in NUI Galway, returning to university full time as a mature student in 2018. His work has been published in The Burning Bush, Skylight 47 and The Wild Word poetry magazines.