Ireland

In Ireland my daughter walked the cliffs
or climbed down rock ravines to the sea.
The frenzied waves crashed and thundered,
drowning out her father’s voice calling her.

It was the same on the windblown Burren.
She wandered far off, leaping the clints—
those smooth limestone glacial pavements—
to search the grikes for flowers to press

in her field book: Irish Eyebright, Burnett Rose,
Wood Sage, Mountain Avens, Oxeye Daisies,
Orchids and Fuchsia, Harebells and Gentian.
My heart told me let her walk free

as I waited by the lonely dolmen tomb
that is thousands and thousands of years old.

Richard Jones is a poet whose most recent book is Stranger on Earth (Copper Canyon Press). Editor since 1980 of the literary journal Poetry East, he curates its many anthologies, such as Paris, The Last Believer in Words, and Bliss. In 2020 he will publish his 100th issue. A new volume of his poems, Avalon, is forthcoming from Green Linden Press.