Michael Ray: a poem



Head down


New year, blue-chipped gravel, the hill

under black tar, ice;

where I hide,

breathe long white clouds.

Corrugated sheds, a reconciled herd,

star-crazed fractures on the road.

Sun low, and barely enough energy to light

the tips of waves.

Black, orange and white lifting

an oyster-catcher

moving me along the tideline.

Ideas of a forest in the push

and suck of sea lettuce.

The stern of a year settling in the sea


The stern of a year settling in the sea

and suck of sea-lettuce.

Ideas of a forest in the push

moving me along the tideline.

An oyster-catcher,

black, orange and white, lifting

the tips of waves.

Sun low and barely enough energy to light

star-crazed fractures on the road.

Corrugated sheds; a reconciled herd

breathes long white clouds.

Where I hide

under black tar, ice.

New year blue, chipped gravel, the hill.



Michael Ray is a poet and visual artist living in West Cork, Ireland. His poems have appeared in many journals, including The Moth, The Shop, Cyphers, Southword, The Stinging Fly, Magma, Numero Cinq, The Well Review, The North and New Coin.