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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In The Sperrin Mountains</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A hawk hangs <br>like the cross <br>beam of a crucifix<br>above the only <br>farmyard for miles.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Across heather<br>the smell of turf<br>is borne by a<br>summer's breeze.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">An old photo<br>of my father's father<br>holding reins<br>upon a load <br>of Sperrin turf<br>his bearded face<br>similar to my own.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And my father<br>releasing pigeons <br>from where we<br>could see Lough<br>Neagh beyond.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=559165" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now wishing I<br>could reach out<br>and touch them <br>piercing the time<br>barrier from alongside<br>a peat bog in the Sperrins.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Liam+%C3%B3+Com%C3%A1in">Liam ó Comáin</a></strong></div>

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