White Water
by John Montague The light, tarred skin of the currach rides and receives the current, rolls and responds to the harsh sea swell. Inside the wooden ribs a slithering frenzy; a sheen of black-barred silver- green and flailing mackerel: the iridescent hoop of a gasping sea trout. As a fish gleams most fiercely before it dies, so the scales of the sea-hag shine with a hectic putrescent glitter: luminous, bleached— white water— that light in the narrows before a storm breaks. |