He’ll be buried in Faulmore
Out beside the sea
Looking out at Achill
At Inishkea
Watching as the sun sinks
Each evening in the west
The ever rolling waves
Whispering where he rests
Obituaries in Ireland
I read them every day
Strange occupation
You might say
I do not know the people
It’s the places that I know
I drove around there
Many years ago
The Irish names are musical
Entertaining to my ear
Like the people that I knew there
Yes in yesteryear
Aughalasheen takes some beating
Pullathomas holds its own
And Aughleam inside the Mullet
Well it almost feels like home
I’ll hardly drive that way again
Old age roots me at home
And the driving license
Surrendered years ago
But the roads of County Mayo
Live always in my mind
And the shores around Belmullet
Are sounding still and kind
Brian Fahy
18 October 2021
Erris Poetry 