Finistère
1
Elizabeth’s favorite pastime is gathering flowers along country lanesso our drive progresses slowly, pulling over at ditchesand churchyards to collect what she desires on a grey afternoon.
No blossoms as beautiful here as in West Corkbut the place looks Irish—the rain, the cows, the hedges—albeit with fewer stone walls and a different dialect,
closer to Cornish or Welsh than Irish, descendedfrom the original Brittonic—these are the original Britons,fled across the channel to escape Saxon subjugation,
the last Celtic tribes, snug in rocky obscurity along the western edgeof the continent, Galicia or Galway, Cornwall or Cornouaille.Finistère is Land’s End. A Briton is a Breton. A Celt is a Celt is a Celt.
2
Obelisks in meadows of salt hay, long lines of standing stones.Menhir, dolmen, cromlech: Celtic words.Fishermen gone down to the sea, sailors lost to…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, May/June 2024