The Gannets

Eugene Tunney

To Stroove I went on a black water day, To see its lighthouse shake As the savage winds played.

I looked to the beach and beyond, To watch black waves pound against Donegal ground.

The fog was blinding, but the yellow beam Of the Fresnel lens pierced through Its demented haze. It was within these holes of light That I saw them. Flashes of white throwing themselves, undisturbed, Into the violent surf.

Like lightning, from the heavens. Diving down on suicide missions In order to survive.

That day the wind could have lifted me. Imagine what it does to hollow bones. Yet the gannets dove onwards, Undisturbed, Into the black abyss.