At Home In Ireland, There's A Habit

Now It’s High Watermark And Floodtide In The Heart And Time To Go. The Sea-nymphs In The Spray Will Be The Chorus Now. What’s Left To Say? Suspect Too Much Sweet-talk But Never Close Your Mind. It Was A Fortunate Wind That Blew Me Here. I Leave Half-ready To Believe That A Crippled Trust Might Walk And The Half-true Rhyme Is Love.

Anything Can Happen, On The Other Hand, Is Not Only About The Atrociousness Of The September 11 Attack, It Is Also A Premonition Of The Deadly Retaliation That Was Bound To Come.

If Self Is A Location, So Is Love.

The Ireland I Now Inhabit Is One That These Irish Contemporaries Have Helped To Imagine.

God Is A Foreman With Certain Definite Views Who Orders Life In Shifts Of Work And Leisure.