Two Rock Mountain, Dublin
After a long, slow climb from the road,
calling out the names of bramble, foxglove,
ling and furze, we left the flies behind
when we turned from the wood’s edge,
bending our bodies to the sandy granite track,
to the bog-water pools and slender rushes.
But a drone hummed over. All of a sudden it
owned the hill, flexing mechanical insect-legs.
Whose gadget filmed us tilt our moon-faces
down to the mica path? A thin, pixilated
sliver of mind let loose on the raised bog
made skylarks crouch from their songs
to cover nests, hidden by heather stems.
We threaded our way on up to the cairn.
Jane Robinson is an Irish poet and biologist whose awards include the Strokestown International Poetry Prize, and Shine Strong Award for her debut collection, Journey to the Sleeping Whale (Salmon, 2018). Today’s poem is from her second collection, Island and Atoll (Salmon, 2023).
After a long, slow climb from the road,
calling out the names of bramble, foxglove,
ling and furze, we left the flies behind
when we turned from the wood’s edge,
bending our bodies to the sandy granite track,
to the bog-water pools and slender rushes.
But a drone hummed over. All of a sudden it
owned the hill, flexing mechanical insect-legs.
Whose gadget filmed us tilt our moon-faces
down to the mica path? A thin, pixilated
sliver of mind let loose on the raised bog
made skylarks crouch from their songs
to cover nests, hidden by heather stems.
We threaded our way on up to the cairn.
Jane Robinson is an Irish poet and biologist whose awards include the Strokestown International Poetry Prize, and Shine Strong Award for her debut collection, Journey to the Sleeping Whale (Salmon, 2018). Today’s poem is from her second collection, Island and Atoll (Salmon, 2023).
