for Seamus Heaney
In a cold stone cabin
In a deserted Cill Rialaig solstice-tide,
West wind wailing through drafty rafters,
Enounced aloud “Hrothgar Skyldinga”
& your Beowulf by turf-light,
Huddled in checkered ...
Statue of Balboa rusts quietly
In the bright California sun;
Balboa beach, or was it Coronado?
Conquistador blares from a car radio,
A yellow Do...
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