in the River Mahon,
they can hear it roaring after heavy rain.
They have walked down to the bridge,
got too close to Crough Wood's ridges,
they have traced it from the falls and back again.
They have summered at Clonea
going day on day on day,
they have swum like they couldn't get enough.
They have scooped up black sea snails,
watched them make their little trails,
they have chased the herons to the sky above.
Where ancient ruins dwell
they have stood at holy wells,
they've learned about the rituals of old.
They have seen the coins thrown
to offer or atone,
they have climbed over the stile and steps of stone.
At the first beams of dawn
they have hiked to Coumshingaun,
they know the rocks and trees along the way.
They've breakfasted at water's edge,
walked the winding narrow ledges,
they have dipped their toes into the freezing lake.
(Published on Water Heritage Day, 23rd August 2020).
