Through Irish Eyes randomstoryteller image of hazel-green eyes

Through Irish Eyes

Through Irish Eyes-poem excerpt by randomstoryteller Catherine Hamrick-images of windswept Carolina beaches

I never scrounged the ground for a four-leaf clover

But lounged in the outfield, lacing daisy chains,

Wistfully wishing no ball would plop my way.

Landlocked, I drown in watery images,

For it is Irish to long for seas and lakes;

Today I will stomp an icy mud puddle

And misspell my name: Cait catches my fancy—

If lucid dreams were only true. . . .

The Atlantic rolls rough on Carolina shores,

No wild swan will touch down, only wind-braced birds

Trekking and pecking ripples erasing their prints.

A dark room at dusk, the beach is wet with clouds,

A dim black-and-white likeness: smoky gray puffs.

The sun sinks the sand into inky stains,

And my depression runs wild with joy

As the tide washes out, leaving silvery pools—

Footfalls shimmering on swiftly burned charcoal.

I take whiskey neat from a Kildare tumbler;

My hazel eyes turn green today, not my beer.

Lucky me.



    1. Catherine Hamrick

      Thanks so much for your comments, Liz. I am glad the images appealed to you. If I could describe myself as a poet, I would prefer the term imagist, though I am 100 years behind that literary movement. : )

  1. Alison Copeland

    How beautifully written. It gives my eyes commencement to the consciousness of energy, that is uncontaminated of worldly ruminations.
    Thank you! I needed that today.

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