I'm four years out of Dublin now and live in an idyllic part of Donegal. The change wasn't quite as dramatic as it might have been as I've been travelling up and down for years, spending weekends and holidays here. To say that the quality of my life has improved is an understatement and I have not regretted leaving, but I have lost something which I think this poem addresses.
I awoke to the usual rumble of city traffic
and quickly realised it was the sea two fields away;
for the first time felt the loss of a life passed;
that boom of activity was the myriad possibilities
daily breaking on my shore;
the roar of conflicting energies: the screeching,
bellowing breaks, exhausts, pistons.
The cacophony of the streets, the pumping city.
I turned on my side to hear that traffic in the sea
but it was not there.
