Eidirsgan

Christian churches, already old, sit on top of Ireland’s landscapes as recent arrivals. Older shapes, shadow shapes, lie beneath them, half hidden. >>>>Burial mounds and standing stones like sleeping giants and cracked teeth. Ancient whale-like hides and boats and boughs. Behind the ivory-choked, Celtic crosses loom ring forts and stone cells. >>>>Atlas waves drown out the priests. Banshee winds catcall the choirs. The sooty dark smothers the candle-light, and the moss grows over every year, like an alibi, covering up a hidden crime.

Ireland