At the Arts Festival, Galway

Kevin Connelly's picture


At the Arts Festival, Galway
There are swans on the Corrib,
Along Quay Street the pubs are
Filled to overflowing.
They play Edith Piaf in cafes
While patrons patiently wait.
Outside, buskers ply their trade.
Behind the old Spanish Arch
We find the new Museum.
There, Johnny Faulkner and friends
Transport us with old sea-songs
Beyond the river’s open mouth
To Greenland whale fisheries.
Voices tell the shanties rhythms.
Eyes closed, to listen close,
I follow the music’s rise and fall.
Singers’ voices in harmony
Take us until we return
To the museum’s sunlit room.
Outside, the swans glide by, mute.


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