71.
If you keep going along this path
no road signs or they all point to
heaven
gorse I said or whin or keep you off
and green
I am a thing of books and boundaries
a headless god at the bottom of your
garden
stone and with a word or two in bad
Latin
chiseled in what I took to be my
heart
as if the earth needed reminders we
are here
or we do and always will, see how the
wind
caresses me sun remembers our nights
together
we slept on the Hill of Tara her very
grass
and never woke all this since is one
long dream.
72.
Ireland it and look again
woodcock whooshes past through sunset
lives by the No Trespass sign
the fairy mound back there that no
one knows but you
though sometimes I think I see them
walking there
in and out of the mind’s view
giving names to things and changing back
again
the fairies are the editors of earth
rinsing the sinews of our experience
no one can look at the same leaf
twice
but one bird can come twice to your
hand
carefully choosing random seeds that
you extend.
