A L?Avenir

A middle-aged man measures the branches
while me bucko swans
it in the tree-top: blackbird right shoulder, left hand vessel of bronze, trout in the vessel
plus bob of an apple,
butt of the tree
the stag who belongs
and miles away the beautiful one
is thinking - Today,
westerly, the wind comes in lumps.
She cups a hand to catch the sea.
Page 65, Poetry Ireland Review Issue 28