- Vol. 02
- Chapter 11
Image by Vestry House Museum
Eagerly
An empty bucket in hand -I trespass dry land to decant my joy
You have been there once, remember
when you walked with your head held high?
your shoes, polished to shine -
two tiny jewels to ornament your leather-clad feet
I will grow up to be like you
and I cannot hope to hold on to
every dream I carry
Because I do not know what it is not to dream
and to be merry -
a boy holding a bucket
to be filled with drops of laughter and lough.
I run to the water to salute it all:
beatified, well-nigh and within reach.