The Illustrated "Dromineer, December 2007" (my last poem of 2007)

 

Dromineer, December 2007

I

A winter storm has thatched the east shore of Lough Derg
In the traditional manner, by breaking
All last year’s dead reeds across the knee of the wind,
Then waves – chop-chop – chivvy ten thousand tons of them
Across the lake and into position
Interlocked along seventy miles of shore.

Today, the obsessive-compulsive waves have
Calmed down a bit, but
Still fiddle with it every few seconds
Like Christo adjusting the silk hem of an island,
Unable to drag himself away.
Like a writer at Christmas, poking a poem
Trying to enjoy the break
Unable to enjoy the break
Trying to enjoy the break
From writing.

II

The sun makes a grudging appearance
For one minute, to two shivering fans
Who’ve been standing on the concrete jetty in the rain.
“That’ll have ta do ye.”
It ducks back behind the zinc clouds
And sinks fast below the black hills.

“Fuck this, I’m off back to Australia,”
Mumbles one of the fans, or the sun.

It’s hard to tell over the
Splash of the lake waves, the
Crash of the lakeside
Property prices, the
Crying of developers and birds.

(Julian Gough, Tipperary, 2007.) 

 

(Photos by Julian Gough. Taken in Dromineer on the day he wrote the first draft of the poem.)