The Bird-Haunt
Harry Clifton, 20 July 2000
“... wings on the water Of an absolute take-off. Half the world has gone south – It’s winter now. Self-insulated, Deathless, last of the early Irish hermits, I lift the hatch like a desktop And light floods in, A giant scriptorium, Sky and water. Antrim to the east, Its reef of lights. And the dot-dash-dot Of a pollan fleet, on the far horizon. And the ... ”