DOWN CULMORE POINT TO RIVER FOYLE
Londonderry, Ireland
Tendon and bone ache from all your years
walking hard stone seaward. Still a mile inland,
you already sense the surf unfurl beneath
your keel and rudder, just beyond that break
in the stone wall where a slipway releases
you daily to the gibbous curve of the lough.
Trawlers will whisper their passage north
beyond Magilligan Point. Seabirds will run dark
against graylight and mizzle, tethered to wind,
communicants ghosting your homeward wake.
pea river journal 
Love this one: I really feel Heaney’s influence in these lines. I’ll look Alfier’s work now, and I’ll return to Heaney, as one should always do.
Isn’t it wonderful the way our teachers and models live and evolve through our work? We love Jeff’s poems so much.