All posts tagged: Orla Fay

“Word Skin” and other poems by Órla Fay

The Fish after Elizabeth Bishop Fragile as a rainbow, silvery, iridescent she cannot be caught. Some say she is the mother of the salmon run and some say she goes with them only to remember, afraid that one day she could forget the stream of consciousness she came from.   It’s not enough to say that she got lost or that she found herself lost and yet she did find herself when she was lost, out in the wilderness of the vast ocean panicked and spluttering in the shock of its depth (this the same woman who had walked along the pier daring the engorged waves to sweep her away. My God, I had thought remembering the vision of The French Lieutenant’s Woman)   Stunned by the wideness of the world she stayed in it for years, alabaster in the moonlight, perfectly still in the starlight, unnoticed with briny, lifeless eyes. About her whale song and in the distance dancing light – the beauty drove her almost mad eventually, cracked, hatching from herself.   From …