The Gael

 

Thanks to Annie Rutherford of Far Off Places magazine for using this poem in the first issue.

 

I am a Selchie walking from the sea

Dry land in sight, but it doesn’t much appeal to me

Taking off my Selchie skin,

Talking in a stranger’s tongue,

Trying to be “at home”,

In someone else’s world

 

I curse the moon, as it cursed me

I need the sea – cold, and deep, and salty-

To cover me

 

If I ever find my skin again…

Under the broken clouds,

I will lie upon the hard, sharp rocks,

Then dive into the

Crashing waves,

And be alive again

 

To be amongst my own kind,

In a world I know,

And love

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