By Shipwrecked on his way to Ireland, the saint
was washed ashore to the foot of the cliff:
founded the church we walk uphill towards
between hedgerows of honeysuckle
and meadowsweet. The church squares to the wind.
A cemetery of slate edges the cliff.
We look down. A seal bobs by the lobster pots.
ashore to cliffcemeterychurchfoundedhedgerowshoneysuckleIrelandLlanbadriglobster potsmeadowsweetsaintsealshipwrecked
What do you think?