Free-verse poets know more or less
rigmarole plays with no less rhyme
nor reason’s strict glances
over fields of furrowed time and time again
===========
Let my people go people this and that generation
That assembly ekklesia that work leitourgia
that I know mine
them
then they are gone
===========
Argon decays not the hot filament
Inert around the 6th the 9th until near
the 11th hour the 11th day
the ancient mid-Brighdeal martial month
leads in founders seekers keepers reapers
==========
Oh leading element
oh far-seeing son of the servant of Brighde
common-sense uncommon-tongued
servant of Cill-Dara Church of the Oak
whence even now pilgrim petals droop
in-pedaling shape-shifting dogwood lattice
bow down and shoutest that
===========
You who may and can not re-verse your songs
And the bricks and the walks and the open arches
Shall echo on and on
You freer gone
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