Friday, June 20, 2014
" Latiarian's Heart "
Three holy women came westward
from France to that place on the border
of Kerry and Cork where the great paps
rise, Danu's giant mist-clad breasts:
Lasair, the eldest, stopped at Killasseragh
and made a hermit's cell her home;
and the middle sister, the yellow haired one,
went along the Blackwater to Dromtarriff
and stopped her journey there; and
the youngest, Latiarian, went to coal-rich
Cullen, where a smith gave her embers
every day to heat her hut. She carried
the embers back in her apron and spent
her days in prayer and contemplation.
Then one day the smith complimented
her shapely feet and Latiarian's apron
burst into flame and she uttered a curse
that no smith would ever thrive in Cullen
and she disappeared, leaving behind
only a granite stone beside the road.
Her curse still holds. No blacksmith lives
in Cullen now to give away embers
and compliment the women. What's
left of Latiarian? A heart-shaped stone.
20 June, 2014