A coronal mass ejection caused me to wake my son at a quarter past midnight, on a school night, and wrap up him carefully, to shut out the cold, to keep a cosmic appointment with electrons, plasma and protons that had traveled a hundred million miles to meet us.
At Magheracross we huddled for an hour, hats pulled down, coats zipped up, squinting at the horizon for green, and red, and blue arcs and curtains spiralling to the pole. The groundswell of a distant Atlantic storm, searching for a shore, slammed onto the cliff below, and we saw nothing.
Then we stopped looking north, and looked up, and I gave him Orion, and he gave me the Plough, and I gave him Jupiter, gifts that had travelled more than one hundred million miles.
His last words before he fell asleep, “If it was easy to find it wouldn’t be so special”.
Irish poet, who spent his early years in Belfast and now lives in Coleraine with his wife and 2 children. His first collection "Thomas" was published by Lapwing in 2005, and his second collection "Black Eyed Peace" has just been published. It is available as either a free eBook or in traditional printed format. His work has been widely published in magazines, anthologies, and on-line. His work has also been broadcast and published by the BBC and a number of his poems have achieved competition success. He has been involved with the Ballymoney Writers for over 15 years and has edited and published 3 collections of their work.
Running from something better to leave it unnamed cold water muddy stream, convenience food wrappers in a kind of marketing survey, neons washed out pink and peach among moss wet rock and metal bridge stanchion rising a splayed hipbone from
Last night the harbourer tracked the stag to his resting place, and at sunrise made a close inspection of the perimeter of the wood, to ensure he had not escaped. When the Master heard this, and was satisfied, he ordered