Reading Seamus Heaney in the April sunshine

 

Even with the warm sun on my neck

Even with the breeze

Even with pale lily-pad green horse-chestnuts in Castle Park

Even with the full flowering cherry

Even with the mallards and their medieval snoods

Even with my silver bangle

Even with my turquoise cardigan

Even with Andy from Art and Design passing and saying ‘hello’

Even with the shine-quiver canal

 

Even with all this my eyes are blank as ‘pools in old workings’

As dead as the eyes of the exhumed beheaded girl

As blank as industrial pools no-one stares into