where are you taking me, lowly members?
awkward and fickle pegs on which I rely,
you could deviate, magic away the risks,
but no, jealously bent on curious paths,
those that our forebears left wide open
advancing casually on the sinking ground,
as if bold hearts were hidden within you,
logic and stamina your stolen compasses,
ignoring my crown’s most urgent appeals,
so far removed from the warmth of reason
when our final journey comes to its end,
down upon you my heavy tears will plunge,
no immunity from the ballad of grieving,
the truth will be plainer than you think,
they will all know that I was easily led
© Copyright, 2007. Seamus Kearney.