Poem inspired by Kerfe’s random words. The painting is by Harry Clarke.


Bray Head, dull in the rain,
the waves rising, falling, hypnotic.
Colours not steel, iron-grey
and the green tinge of copper.

But some days, in some lights,
rays of striped sun strike fire
from the green, the magic ignites,
and the earth rolls back to the beginning of time,

when winds blew from the sea
in silence, hawks hung hunting,
and only hills marched along the horizon,
beneath forests I have never seen.