At the Festival of the Golden Light of Síd in Broga*
I sucked pale sunlight
and exhaled it golden.
You drank it at the eyes
and exalted me, Síd in Broga.
Drank yourselves drunk,
pissed in the river beneath you.
The Boyne stole my silver
and merrily, merrily carried it off to sea.
* In his book, Newgrange: the mystery of the chequered lights, Hugh
Kearns offers his theory that Newgrange (Síd in Broga) housed a gold mirror.
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