Out to sea <br /> <br />there is the snap of a castanet, <br /> <br />Boats are going down <br /> <br />to the tune of the bolero. <br /> <br />Sovereigns are sifted <br /> <br />by old storms. <br /> <br />A bull, bleeding profusely, <br /> <br />makes for Grange.<br /><br />Dermot Healy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-armada-at-streedagh/
