At Aber Falls
 
he felt nothing
water sheeted
past grottoes
snakes of tributary
lazed along

below Yr Wyddfa
a steam train
sauntered by
sun-sharp tufts
of grass and black
tears of earth
upward away
and all the land
beside the train
slipped down
away and down

from Swallow Falls
cataracts brewed
scummy heads
on pints of stout
in a heaving bar
festive thunder
empty of people

as small-hour streets
are emptied full
and flowing waters
surge clear
and feel nothing
full and empty
he felt nothing

Shortlisted twice for the Bridport poetry prize, longlisted for the Orwell Prize in the blog category and for the Bridport novel prize, Paul Connolly has had poems appear in many poetry periodicals, including previously in Ink Sweat & Tears. Shortlisted for the Charles Causley Prize, he was highly commended in the Sentinel Quarterly and third in the Magna Carta Competitions.