“Only poetry lasts.”
John Balaban, Poetry Reading at the Varna Ruins

Given the evidence
Of errors and cruelty,
It is hard to believe
In the greatness of

Western civilisation. Where
History should be the proof
I have found it rather
In the geography of

Religion. Where
Things come together on
Sites as different as the
Shores of the Black Sea and

A hillside near Dublin,
There eons of geology and
Millennia of mankind show
Profiles of progress.

On a small promontory
Behind the port of Sevastopol,
Archaeologists uncover worship
From Pre-Classical to Graeco-Roman.

The main buildings on the ridge
Are a monastery and an Orthodox Basilica.
The dome looms over quaysides
Harbouring Russian warships.

Glaciated hills south of Dublin
Host early Christian churches, whose
Burial grounds are still in use,
Despite the encroachments of today.

New houses intrude on rights of way.
Municipal dumping alters the landscape,
As do the allotments of urbanites
Practicing the latest Eco-faith.

FRAGMENTS

Take the cedar cone

Picked up yesterday,

Green and of a piece.

I put it in the conservatory,

A new form to study,

To draw in pen and wash.

Today its carapace

Is dry and fissured

To drop its seeds.

I am a day older too,

Writing thoughts in fragments

To fall where they may.