The West Coast of Ireland is the place to be
if you want to ponder the meaning of life
for here there are no distractions to withstand.
And though I am now sitting in a bungalow
in a capital suburban sprawl-
No Atlantic swell to throw up
flotsam-jetsam wisdom from the deep.
No howling onshore wind crumbling the waves.
No sea mist veiling and unveiling the Skelligs
and its story of viking raids and monastic contemplation.
Just the DPD fellow making another delivery
and a woman out walking her reluctant schnauzer
and a great kerfuffle in the back kitchen
where the cat has just dragged
a fledgling magpie through the cat flap
and is now beginning to regret his bravado.
Making me, right elbow placed on left thigh,
back of right hand supporting chin,
ponder the folly of instinct
untempered by foresight.
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