He had appeared from nowhere
Alone I was
‘Are you waiting for da bus?’
a frail old man was standing above me
wailing in Irish
The first thing I noticed was rosary beads
gripped tightly around two hands
like chains
on the soft wrinkly curve between thumb and forefinger on each
was a small tattoo of a faded swallow
I watched the dip and dive of rosary beads
sliding frantically over them
as the stranger who they belonged to told me in a very concerned tone
that a young girl like myself should not be alone on a Sunday morning,
didn’t I know there were rapists and thieves lurking at every corner?
I tore my eyes away from his hands long enough
to take a look around the small peaceful, fishing village
he informed me he was a religious man
and then went on to rant about young men these days
how all they wanted was to rape women
like me
and how there was too much rape in todays society.
He gave me directions to a café that I would be safe in until the bus came.
He insisted I went right away.
I did
Laughing to myself
About the amount of crazy Irish men
Roaming about the west coast of Ireland with advice for me
On how to stay safe from the evils of the world
How could I have possibly told them
They need not worry
About a girl like me
Sometimes when I close my eyes
I still see those two swallows dipping
and weaving
in and out
of those rosary beads
And it makes me wonder who God is
and where he has been all this time