fool that I am
bewitched by the sun
I set off for Lacken

head down
'gainst the deep hurtful rays
my feet squelched 
in the bog flooded bog
damn it
this is heavier going
than I thought

resting on a turf bank
I could see out t'ards the sea
the morning mail boat
rode the waves around the head
wild horses stormed the pebble beach
the spume from their heads
joined to make long rainbowed manes
blowing eastwards to England

slowly
silently
coldly
my spine began 
to warm
the back of my head froze
as my face warmed

I felt seduced
as the deepest mist
rolled down the mountain
rebelling against the sun

I was so cold now
so very cold
ill-dressed for this deceit

I curled up
fetal
midst the heather bed
and fern

they said he was a kind man
always a smile
but a loner really
a bit sad in the eyes

the magistrate recorded
misadventure

but why was he smiling
when found
rigid like bogwood
clasping white heather
in his hand