Blow ins

Late night bar in Kinvara, County Galway, talking to ‘locals’ who reveal their status as ‘blow ins’, brought there by navigational instinct and kept there by an intuitive sense of belonging.
How much more welcoming a term is that than the Cumbrian ‘off-comers’? (
Made me think of Joanne Harris’ book/film Chocolat…

Blown in
On the wind
I envy you
The rise and fall of breath
in fresh new air,
The tingle of discovery,
The sense that this glass slipper of a place fits.

Born here,
It is stale
Over familiar.
I see the flakes in the paint
You call it quaint,
The jerk in the corner of the bar,
Your local character…
My cousin.

Lend me your eyes that I might see
This town without hostility.