my god
the tide
is high
I have never
seen it so
high at night
the boiling blackness
spitting spume across
the sandy mount and
nora looks out through
the door for sight of
paudie's light and by
the spit speckled rug
his dog lies out
eyes and ears
searching the
dark and febrous
night
a child's cry
a candle flickers
a moth dies
shshshsh
Don't know how I missed this one. This is well nigh perfect with its intense concentration on the high tide, the worry in nora and his dog, and for some reason I'm in love with "the spit speckled rug".
