Lovers' Tack

My second last New Irish Communities class in the Writers' Centre. A gorgeous evening, which may be why only three turned up. Afterwards I drove down Gardner St. and skirted the docklands before doubling back and approaching from the other direction, through Ringsend and onto Pigeon House Road. On the Hammond Lane dock I noticed a tall-masted ship near Custon House quay, competing with industrial crane-silhouettes in the flaring sunset: 'the spell of arms and voices', as Joyce wrote.

Then into the twilight along Sandymount, the sea as silvered as the not quite full moon, wandering star of a plane over Howth. And the lovers in the foreground, welded into one figure in a manner which reminds me of Munch. Ah, sure what am I doing, interloping, sidelining, moon-shadowing?