After the convent, it was good to be back

The new estate. The new morning.

And in the distance: the Dublin Mountains.

Finding clothes for Anna

Dressing her softly - 

Gentle and wicked she wakes.

The wide empty pavement

The bus half-filled

This August afternoon, with women.

Why aren't the leaves falling?

In October colours these squares

Spurt earth.

Now only summer traffic

Greys my mind.

In Cavan for rings

In Clones a poet parades the diamond.

They're filming at Redhills - 

another border story - 

The unmarked road's been blown.

But, look, beyond any horizon, up-above,

Swirls the grey-blue sky.

Of this particular summer.

Never to be recovered.