HORIZON by John O'Donoghue

for John McCullough

Translated to this aqueous place,
trailing clouds in your wake,

you strut the stage assured of nothing
but the gift you give us,

a different vision in each eye,
the exact cadence

of the streets in their stroll to the sea,
the rumble of some future glory

in the sky you’ve just inscribed,
the horizon that’s yours like no one else’s.