In a traffic jam and I can see
Daffodils bedeck the ditches,
Benches in a people’s park.
Sideways there is a swamp
Where in the water preening
Stands a swan unperturbed.
A proud heron flies up above:
Once a tall and lordly one
Upheld its native landing rights,
Strutting around the grass
Within a nearby roundabout,
Reclaiming its own wetland.
As my patience in the tailback
Further ticks away from me
A brazen ambulance overtakes
This queue of cars and breaks
With flashing lights of blue
The traffic rules to save a life
By Limerick’s Shannon side
Across The Whistling Bridge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem