In The Old Man's House

The cup brims, the dye sets
By the sharp hoar briar.

The thatch-rot at the damp wall
Of the dark stone hut,
The lampwick at the breastbone
Where the old man sat,
The sharp prick of the hoar briar
The thumb’s blood-spray,
The last flickering lamplight

Where the old shades play;
The long slash and the slow hush
At the breath’s death joust,
The wind shrieks at red rags
In the old man’s house.

20 October 1977