white traces of a broom mark the blue
where morning sky is swept clean
dogs are silent and crows hold their tongues
while citizens of Rathdrum stir in their sleep

on the green where Parnell’s statue stands
– ancient rebel meeting ground
fir trees guard the eastern front
– tall soldiers where they need not be
a locked iron gate bars the way
in remains of walls that still hold firm

sparrows come and go through the park
a stream slips under the southern wall
an island of turf and rounded rock
holds its rough ground out on the pond
one ancient misshapen tree stands
where Parnell’s bronze gaze rests
beyond his crossed arms and bold right foot
this town continues to hold him in memory

I heard no words until Parnell spoke
wrote nothing down until I walked the green
I was half-blind until the sun reached the glen
I stood for nothing until I stood here

for Brodie Power
Ireland, Summer 2006