![](https://tbilisilitfest.ge/images/f1b1c1b5613636aa9f924309bacd0b00John ODonnell.jpeg)
John O'Donnell was born in 1960. He has published four books of poetry as well as Sunlight: New and Selected Poems (Dedalus Press, 2018). His awards include the Hennessy Award for Poetry, the Ireland Funds Prize and the SeaCat National Poetry Prize. As a fiction writer his work has appeared widely; in 2013 he received the Hennessy Award for Fiction and in 2020 he published his widely praised debut collection of stories, Almost the Same Blue. A senior counsel, he lives and works in Dublin. He has been a member of the Board of Poetry Ireland, among other institutions, and has served on the Board of The Arts Council.
THE TIDE
This morning, a new offering
on the altar of the strand: a young
bull seal, left behind after last night’s
acts of war, his wounds carnelian,
still fresh. The others watch him
from the water, their gleaming,
whiskery heads diving and then
popping up, standing off or swerving
close to witness his once-sleek flesh
becoming rock. One of their own.
But when he dies they disappear, leaving
what is left of him alone; no dreams of sunlit
oceans, herring-throngs, since we dream these for him
instead. We put on black, and stand for songs
and weep because we cannot let go, ever,
of our dead, or bear to think that this is all there is,
this foam-frilled beach which tomorrow will be
empty; and the sea, that we can just about
make out from the window of this corridor
where we are gathered, waiting for the tide.