Of You, with Flowers

Of you, with flowers

in your hands

*

scabious, harebell, gypsy rose

campion, burnet, Bradda weed.

*

You skip down Micklow Lane

alone, even then,

*

in meadows

or observing tadpoles

*

in the glassy water

of the spring-fed

*

limestone trough

next to the shed

*

where you found

the dead sheep,

*

birthing no joy

for this ewe.

*

Chubby, glasses,

friends few

*

but you knew

all the names

*

of the flowers

back then.