A Letter to Oughterard

Oughterard Newsletter February 2004

Barbara Clarke

I want to say I was here

I loved the mythical light of dawn

The night that never came in June

I fell in love with my life here

The unending wind rain wind rain

That told me there is a power greater that me

And that it will win


Let me say

I loved the yellow house where I lived

The cattle that hung around and sometimes

Washed car windows with fat tongues

The flock of seagulls I spied from my living room

Tiptoeing among Dixon’s sheep

The gravel boreen that growled past my door

Bringing anglers to Loch Corrib for the taste of trout


I want to tell you I loved the ferocious

O’ Flaherty’s castle

An ancient ruin sashaying to doom

Like all the ruins in Ireland

I fell for the colour grey

The lacy rock walls the hidden oratory in Portacarron


Before I leave this place

I want to tell you

About my friend Bob who told of civil war


Knocking on his boyhood door for a cuppa tea

About a slow recessional for chat with all the neighbours

About his coffin on the guestroom bed


Know wherever I go

I’ll love the spring frost on your tulips and


I’ll love your lanterns of fuchsia.


This page was added on 29/06/2011.

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