EIRE

On tattered knee,
tam in hand,
shillelagh
by his side,
bent slightly east
as goes the beech tree.

Weathered face,
eyes living
in the past.

Tweed jacket parted,
reveals a rose
placed on
sunken soil.

Ogma,
god of poetry
prompts his litany.

Head bowed,
sign of the cross,
shillelagh steadies
his quivering body.

Do not approach,
his aura cries,

Man from Eire,
leave him be.

Donovan