You’re happiest underwater, a camera
strapped to your brow, feet snug in fins,
fingertips wrinkled as raisins.
On the seabed, flat as salt plains,
you stand so still, the murky distance
a hazy threat. Yet, your patience pays off
as silt clouds settle and hermit crabs
appear, scuttle their scavenged
shells in a sideways dance.
Metres away you clock a compass jellyfish,
its bell streaked with burnt umber rays;
the swish and sway of tentacles,
your cue to come up for air.
The gurgled speech and bubbled spume,
a stripped back muffled soundtrack.
In my womb you kicked the least
and as you slithered out eight days
overdue, my belly sagged like
a deflated balloon. The midwife
peeled away your caul to reveal
a blush pink glow; asked did I want
this gelatinous shawl, stated
this child will never drown
and clamp sealed your independence.
© Lorraine Carey
Picture no. 10127232, illustration by Jessie Willcox Smith, c 1916
Originally from Donegal, Lorraine Carey now lives in Kerry. Her work is widely published in Ireland, Britain, Australia, Asia and the U.S. Her poems feature in Magma, Orbis, Poetry Ireland Review, The Stony Thursday Book, Trasna, The Cormorant, Crowstep Journal, Panoply, Prole, Gyroscope Review, The Honest Ulsterman, The Alchemy Spoon, Abridged and others. Her art has appeared in Skylight 47, North West Words, Barren and Olentangy Review. A previous winner and runner up of the Charles Macklin Poetry Competition, in 2022 she was runner up in the Trocaire/ Poetry Ireland Competition: shortlisted for The Bridport Prize and The Allingham Poetry Prize. Two of her poems featured in The Seamus Heaney Centre Podcast – Showcase Episode 2020. Her debut collection is From Doll House Windows (Revival Press)