Gateways
It takes as little as an empty gateway
Idly straddling a hill no matter where-
And sometimes I can picture it clearly,
To take me back, to turn my thoughts-
Times I may be days and nights away,
To the field at home behind the house.
Too late it came that new motorway
Neck and neck with the Ennis road;
The old way was good enough then
For long before I lost my destination;
Now there's nothing there no more
To touch- 'not a stone upon a stone'.
From the Falls Hotel I saw a rookery
And I'm riveted to the raucous crows:
The only sound that filled the silence
That hung over the empty farmhouse,
As I retreated from its hold on me,
Was their tense staccato conversation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem