" 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.

~Patricia Monaghan

U.S.A./Ireland

~ Beannaichte'

20 June, 2014

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