by Grainne Quinlan
Merrow, lady of sea and of land I
sit and watch you in secret
and as seawater splashes upon the West of Ireland rocks
I lick the splashes from my arms dizzy with your taste.
A lonely mackerel flaps on the shore
Gasping for life like I gasp for you
Merrow, they tell me stay away
Warn me you will swallow my light,
cover me in strings of sea weed-
blacker than darkness. Yet I long to
pirate your soul.
You torment me, Merrow. Why come to me each day?
Show me your face.
There is space for us.
A place only waves know. that lashes
forward in foam – green blue grey gone.
Merrow, sing to me and only me.
I will wait for you by The Flaggy Shore and watch you come in, my
hand outstretched for your webbed one hoping you might choose
me. My promises mapped in the sand.
And as clouds fall upon us, you might accept my hand, where
we will dissolve into the damp Easter air, to kneel with
love where legs mean nothing and the sea will whisper our
story to the soil and the rocks and the gulls for generations to come.
© Copyright Grainne Quinlan
Grainne Quinlan is a poet and writer originally from Dublin in Ireland. Much of Grainne’s work is inspired by nature and the landscape of The Burren in the west of Ireland, where she now lives. Poetic form is something Grainne is especially interested in, and she has taken much influence from the poetry of Black Mountain College in North Carolina. Grainne has an MA in Creative Writing and English from the University of Limerick where she also works as a student tutor.
Read the Rest of the January Issue
- Mermaid by Nivedita Sekar
- Til Human Voices Wake Us by Jennifer Hudak
- Lament of the Love Struck Irish Fisherman by Grainne Quinlan
- Interview with Brigit Treux, David Bowles, and Grainne Quinlan by Julia Rios
- Cold Water by Karen Porter Sorensen
- Wake by Sara Eileen Hames
- Underwater Panther by Brigit Truex
- Siren Call by David Bowles
- How to Eat a Mermaid by K. Garcia Ley
- Flow by Baz Kanold
- Getting Our Sea Legs by Julia Rios
- Tracking Treasures by Meg Frank