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Francie Lynch Jan 2018
I went out for some air
As Ophelia's winds ripped Cavan
With whips and cracks,
Swaying wires til they met like Gothic lips
Whistling a lilting melody
In a wave winding along the Carrick Road.
They wailed as banshees,
Warning men with crosses,
Women in seclusion,
Screeching in their ears,
The fairies left their hillocks,
The cairns are empty vaults;

Ophelia drowned out prayers that night,
And slipped for Scotland's shore.
Hurricane Ophelia, Oct. 2017.

— The End —