This is a Galway morning

Not dry, really, not raining, actually

A cloud has laid down to rest on

The endless grass and walled fields

A wedge of swans fly over, honking

Flapping strongly through the thick air

A murmuration of starlings,

Murmur at the crows

A murder of crows call back threateningly

And every grey sullen stone that was ever lifted

In a hard won stubborn Galway field

Is still in every grey stone wall around

This is a wild tribal stubborn Galway

Swan. Starling. Crow and Stone

All say in their special way “Fáilte,

Fáilte go Gaillimh”


Martin Swords

Brusk, Kiltullagh

January 22nd 2017