Free Ireland shipping on orders over €25 | Free Worldwide shipping on orders over €45

Audio and Video

Salmon Poetry

The Sunshine is Someplace Else

Phil Lynch

A man on Grafton Street
holds a pole 
on top of which there is a board 
advertising sunglasses
in a shop that is somewhere else.
He wears a worn leather jacket,
gloves, scarf and knitted hat,
but no sunglasses.
He looks like he has come
from somewhere sunny,
he looks like he wishes he could be
somewhere sunnier than here.

The largest range of designer
sunglasses in Ireland,
it says on his board.
The sun was shining earlier
now it looks like rain again.
He pulls his hood up over his knitted hat.

A treadmill of people
moves up and down
some with smiles
some with shades 
some with frowns.

A bald man walks past in a suit
he wears sunglasses and an overcoat
an umbrella in one hand
a briefcase in the other
he doesn’t see the man 
with the sunglasses ad
he doesn’t see beyond
the papers he carries
in his tightly gripped bag.
A young man holds up a cup
he is looking for shade,
for shelter, for anything better;
a busker belts out
songs of sunshine and loss
while a couple of lovers
begin losing each other
in the depths of a slow-dance
of pain.

There’s a child 
in a pram, both she 
and her mam have spectacles 
dark on their faces;
the sellers of flowers at the corner 
for hours are content that their stems
have the sunshine within
for they’ve come
from the sunniest of places.

The sun shines rarely now
but people still like to pretend
that it shines more often
and this, in the end,
is sometimes enough.

The sunglasses shop
is in the next street.
The sunshine is still someplace else.

Follow us on Instagram


Contact us

Salmon Poetry / The Salmon Bookshop
& Literary Centre,
Main Street,
County Clare,
V95 XD35,

Arts Council
Credit Cards