If anyone knows about sullen loneliness, you do
Yet there’s a grin in the wind heartless and cold
There’s dark in the darkness, beauty of streams
I low my beams to you, from tunnel to tunnel

as if the frozen had a distinct personality
Standing at the lonnenhead, holding leeks, you
sawed my glance in half with yours. What keen eyes!
Such strange, outdated clothes. What’s inside counts.

Leaning into the tall grass grandness of your alert stance
towards the west and the brilliant beauties of Ireland,
I know now why you took the sickle hook
backing the beasts into their shutdown shed

You chopped the gate for want of sound
But you had sound, all sound, my purr mistress
my fantastic slavver merchant, when we peeled the sky

together we had water and silence and fire and togetherness
the lights of all you didn’t say knots my life and all dreams.