Champagne Sorbet

On the day in summer when the old man warms his bones, / Stretching idle legs on Sean Walsh park benches, / Mimicking the patient heron balanced in the water, / First one and then the other, pop, ease and crack…

In the Low Valley

In the dampness of the low valley, / all rows are remarkably dry and kept, / a handsome sty from rushy field, / brings the wandering foot, / to light upon the hard-packed earth. / Fingers intertwined, / hard grip to hold back…

Words

The words were sent out of the window and into the world, / Spiralling nouns danced on the breeze and prose rose on light airs, / Gusting gales could not the verbs shake loose from bonds of rhyme…

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