Rhyme it with Portia.
Sorcha. No cha-cha-cha,
though she's a reason to dance.
Sound the "c" and "h" of chanteuse—
you should hear her sing already—
or chandelier—her Irish name
means "light"—or champagne—
celebrate this newborn.
Shall she shine? She shall.
Now hush. Shh. She sleeps.
In her dream, the susurrus
of the Floridian shore—Sorshore—
the shushing around her small feet
a pressure to erode harsh
old Irish, where the "c" and "h"
harden to a "k," as in the chasm
she crossed to get here; Chronos,
this Time she has entered with us;
chorus, as with many voices
raised in praise; or even chlorophyll,
the green of beginnings.
For now she has brought softness
to the Irish language
and to us—see Sorcha
in her first chemise.
Philip Dacey was the subject of our Closer Look series in Innisfree
14:
He
is the author of twelve full-length books of poems, including The Mystery of
Max Schmitt: Poems on the Life and Work of Thomas Eakins (Turning
Point Books, 2004), Vertebrae Rosaries: 50 Sonnets (Red
Dragonfly Press, 2009), The New York Postcard Sonnets: A Midwesterner
Moves to Manhattan (Rain Mountain Press, 2007), Mosquito Operas:
New and Selected Short Poems (Rain Mountain Press, 2010), and most
recently, Gimme Five (Blue Light
Press, 2013).
