Metamorphosis

After eight days
In a foreign land
One begins to believe
Every bad driver endured
On a narrow winding road
Is American

Or a midday pint is proper
Smithwick’s
Or Guinness
Would do just fine

Rain becomes fair play
And sun, dislodges from the sky
As the strangeness
Of stranger evaporates
Imperceptibly
With the forward lurching
Of time

Place

Remember the magpies

how he nicknamed them

“Orca Whale-bird”

Remember the foxglove 

violet tunnels enclosing 

traveling bees

Remember the deep base notes

of burning bog cut peat 

glowing crimson 

behind cracked glass

Remember our children 

like hobbits, lofted

poking blooming faces

through heart shaped cutouts

Remember the bleeding heart fuchsia 

sheltering over

the yellow hope of buttercups