The fourth poem in Angela Alaimo O’Donnell’s series, “Crossing Ireland.” The next poem in the series will appear on Monday, March 10. Here’s the link to the essay that began the series “Crossing Ireland”
More about Angela Alaimo O’Donnell
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SPIDEIL ROAD, GALWAY BAY
My head so full of earth, words won’t hold it,
English syllables never shaped to these contours,
its wind-etched rock and wide sky fit for rune.
There is a solemn strangeness to this place,
a weathered air that holds its past
sorrows as if they were not past.
I can not count the beauty of towns,
the grace of wilder spaces
and guide them into easy lines.
Like the narrow lanes that map
this well-walked ground, my mind
moves along margins
urgent for the center,
the hidden heart I long to enter.
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