Leaning in close, closer still, the strokes
of the artist shine through: the wild sweep
at the edges, the subtle tones channelling
a man who shoulders headwind on Clew Bay.
The sea is a glut of dark, a swathing grey;
behind, Nephin Beg tumbles in moonlight.
Resolute, the world revolves around his pain
as the smallest speck outlives its meaning.