Not in vain

Michael Farrell

You think of gracious ladies, I of gents: not so

young, dressed in rain. We are quiet, mad, like drummers looking

for a band. We turn over the soil, marvel at

our tranquillity. All’s well in Paris, according to

the TV. Magic roofs of thatch have descended

creating brown shadows. A rustle and bark, but no

dog in the yard. We’ve seen the international

children crying at the graves of Tutenkhamen. They’re

on tour like us. Cairo’s Proust iguanas his gay

eyes, his gay neck. The sacred lawns are being mown. Mainland

ways. Five minutes sunshine, then Fleur-de-Lys Island.

The attitude of the pottery up there’s chilly. We

throw rocks at its crimson calm. I’d come to imprint

the sky on my green-gold mind. At first I felt flush, vain

boggled. Cooing images of the lotused ground.

Sunny creature, resting through spring ... grace to be visible.