Ynys Môn
On craggy, stone-strewn shores
glacial breakers
shatter
the mothering rock.
Her deep ores sustain her
children.
She views hoary mountains
and stretches through
pale, lucent mist,
a ship off the cairn
or ancestral ghost,
sea-kept.
Her name rings silver.
Her heart, living coal,
men's bread.
Her elder offspring raised stones
like broken circlets,
scattered,
left in mute patterns,
undecipeherable and
sacred.
L C Ricardo, Florida, USA
L.C. Ricardo is an aspiring writer, wife, and mother living in Florida. She blogs over on Spinning Straw into Gold (http://spinstrawintogold.blogspot.com)
ReplyDeleteI especially liked the use of elder here, it made me think of the plant and all it's magic. Very good word choice.
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