Blue

How everything appears blue, looking out from a connamara coastline.

The fault of light in the oily sea,
"the borderline" between grey and sleet
is dancing to and fro slowly,
mourning blue.

Above, cobalt in dark clouds.
They are one, and together they slump
in the blue of sky beneath;
a smog of ultramarine.

Nothing may defeat this blue.
Not the dead mountains (slain),
the heavy sand (conquered), nor
the dull overcast (breathless).

This sapphire claims everything, for
It’s this which inhabits the scene.
Today, the blue will drink upon this place,
today, blue will drown it with its cerulean tongue.

Come blue,
come and swallow me too.