Goat Island is a secluded beach west of Ardmore, Ireland that can be found via a windy lane signposted for Goat Island. It was awarded the Green Coast Award for 2015.


Every morning in every season

they come to swim

the southern coast

of Goat Island.
From spring jackets and skirts

they emerge in blue bathing suits

bare legs skimming across

a cavernous beach,

heads capped in white.
Like a bevy of birds

they dip in the tide,

stroke imperceptibly out,

circle back to themselves

these girl-women.
Their shape takes the form

of the sea,

sinuous as an eyelid,

sharp as a forgotten sound.
Without a white cap, I stand out—

bare-haired, American.
After a swim they strip naked

powder breasts and towel

bottoms, hover inside

limestone hewn before time

was a word or an abstract. 
They huddle close,

dress and laugh,

at ease with their bodies,

each other.
But the vigor of May

makes me shiver:

this soft Irish rain mixed

with talk, bare limbs

and wet rock.