Here in an antique frame on a turquoise wall where I can see it
as I fall asleep
and on awakening is a waterfall
titled, "Glens of Antrim. Ess-Na-Laragh." Three-tiered and forever rushing down blue-white with force and volume over rocks through greenery as lush and dense as I have ever seen, it draws me daily, breaks (relatedly) on all my senses, freshens sight and seeing, and tells me in my mind (when harsher sounds intrude) that I hear falling water. Here in a frame upon my wall I have
the Glenns of Antrim.