fall in victoria

clocks fell back one slot today
sun is now descending and
water at willows is serious
in ripples and gun ship grey.

dogs banned for the summer
off leashed again on the beach
and a little girl in a pink coat
laughing mad plays with a puppy.

her grandparents sporting poppies
on lapels of winter jackets
black and red of hole and blood
remembering a day in june,

twenty thousand
killed for cousin kings.
passing-on the air bites crisp
this unusually cold snap,

victoria, which victories
a hundred  years ago today
deserve commemoration? 

pals from mills and mines
dying on the hardening mud
for gentlemen and liberty.

turning home into the sun
watching the little girl kick and cry
her granddad is embarrassed

he cannot know
i understand,
and she
cannot yet
fit freedom
in a minivan.

what have i helped?

in the attic
of my  mind
a darkening box
labeled belsen
why it interests me
i do not know
but i know

the click and clack of rails and
the heavy sigh of helplessness
of all the stations connected
and the round faced clocks
and ticket makers in peaked caps
of ticks and tocks and visions
of Victoria dying in the arms
of a kaiser, of my mother in mine,
of kaki helpers
constructing camps
and millions murdered
and others loved

persons
in life
and death
singular
solitary
alone and
each
a universe
a gift
to be

or snuffed
by ignorance
or greed
or abuse
of power
so i ponder.

what have i helped?

Dust

Just
Over there
I kissed her
I can see the spot
If I open look
I see her also
Kissing
In that instant
All the lies
Fell away
Crumpled
Dust

a reply to brian o brien

I would leave now, go
to where the world seems wet
crossover thomond arches
where thady and the lady
danced a reel above the river

down, by munchin and
the broken stone to curragower
with thoughts of clancy poke
my finger in the pox-marked
limestone of the barracks

along with children of lir
to wellesley bridge watcin'
abbey men still in their cots
waitin' for salmon or
street-wise boys chasin' eels

then to walk with callaghan
along the quieter side
past cleeves' chimney out
to barrington's pier where
with the setting sun

i look back at my city.