The Ireland I Now Inhabit

Hope Is Not Optimism, Which Expects Things To Turn Out Well, But Something Rooted In The Conviction That There Is Good Worth Working For.

But Even So, None Of The News Of These World-spasms Entered Me As Terror.

I Rhyme… To See Myself, To Set The Darkness Echoing.

At Home In Ireland, There's A Habit Of Avoidance, An Ironical Attitude Towards The Authority Figure.

Best To Say That Once A Poem Is Finished I Trust It To Make Its Way, And I Trust Readers Will Find Their Way To It And Through It, If The Thing Has Got Itself Rightly Expressed.