Dublin, 1998

The heart is not footsore
which walks the cobbles of water,

the wish is not blistered
which thinks of the rivers, the tides,

the dream is not dustshod
which crosses the ha'penny bridge,

the day is not hard, or slog,
which travels the sweet slipstream ,

and love is not heel-burned
when the dusk links arms with the day.

From the book Looks Familiar