The wind’s song sighs and summons
Cabled sweater, Irish wool
Tug silver shamrock closure
Someone’s discard, my cup ‘s full

Topped off with yet a rarer find
Dublin cape in forest green
Who would wish to part with that?
What other souls have such capes seen?

The French Lieutenant’s Woman
The ones who dance the reel
The poet at my wedding
The maidens of O’Neill

A flock of red macaws proclaims
Greens of different zones
Wind never at my back today
Birds protest, umbrella groans

Scant view beyond the forest
Swims the lion near?
What progress on Mare Island?
Mute metal cranes can’t hear

Snap! sting three spokes in my hand
Leaving only Éire
As canopy collapses
Farewell to tropics fair!

It is breathtaking enough
Irish rain, Atlantic’s roar
Solitude’s surrender
On California’s shore

Dorothea Barth©2010 Vallejo CA USA

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 9th, 2010 at 4:45 pm and is filed under Dorothea Barth, Uncategorized Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.