In twos and threes they climb the hill,
Some lean on sticks to aid the trek.
The sun has yet to rise above
The bay. They gather near the stones.
“The largest crowd I’ve ever seen”
The priest and acolytes prepare
The table, roughly made of wood
And placed before St. Manchan’s cross.
More torches bob below us now.
“In ainm an Athur” he begins.
The ancient tongue is all they need
Today to praise their risen lord.
A whistle plays a solemn air
And voices rise to greet the sun.
We walk back down the hill to home
Scattering sheep as we go.