The Merrowâs Call
Still wetâan old t-shirt
keeping the wind off my chest
Feet bare, carefully navigating
this abandoned stretch of the old coast road
Dodging pebblesâ
sand rubbed and brushed away
except between my toes
Sycamore leaves hanging like laundry
drying from the storm
And the smell of sagebrush
warming in the morning sun
Iâm reminded in this moment
of how we met:
    You, carrying a journal of words
    both arms wrapped around
    and tucked under your chin
Guarded by your almond eyes
that still drop me to my knees
When I walk north along the sand
at midnight, or unleash
and dive deep into the underwater world
itâs you I see
Iâve heard you as well, on the shore
beckoning my return one more time
My merrowâ
bringing me back each and every fucking time
You alone understand my words
of muffled surf and heavy foggy air
Bless the Wind that gave you flight
and the Sea that gave me her eyes
Christopher O'Mahony















