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Cliffs of Moher

By Mary McColley

And waves combed out the old hair of the sea

The froth the blue the mangy strands

Above, the puffins, above, the wind tried to pull

my hair from my head and marry me to the sea

The grass leaned so soft against my skull, I

watched slant-eyed birds shelved in their nests,

beaks backwards, necks pale, paired, and

drowning above the sea-roar, I

watched brown wind blow on the clifftops & so much grey

dissolved to sky, I watched with limestone in my pocket,

put cold hands to my face and

couldn’t say anything

First published in 2022 by Wingless Dreamer, Sea or Seashore.


MARY McCOLLEY is a writer and poet originally from Maine. She has wandered and worked for a number of years in France, Thailand, and Palestine. Her pastimes include killing lobsters and selling street art.


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