Conor Ross: ‘Ulva off Mull’ and ‘Either/Or’

Ulva off Mull

Turning with a gristle snarl
to a world of charcoal totems
barely holding against a sneeze,
leaves one unfated
Praying to understand
those crashing words and sung notes
that once lapped the craggy shores,
now littering some isle in memory.
Descendants, dumb and despondent:
the voice of an ancestor brings ’em
what warning or blessing but a shrug,
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.*
What is the way back
to a land pleased to be seen?
Are there hills in Heaven
like these so Green?

Conor Ross
* May his faithful soul be at the right hand of God.

Either/Or

Chatter as you like about our towers & tramways:
you can admire a spider’s web
because you are not a fly.

Chatter as you like about the nobility of nature:
you can admire a spider’s web
because you are not a fly.

Conor Ross