Fuschia

To-day, red blue; bells hang

happily off the mossy edge

of the steep ditch across

from the iron graveyard gate.

Above here is the bull field

where Sonny walked the well fed

animal from cowshed to green grass

while funerals passed in through

the gates of Kiltoghert Graveyard,

his lowing sounds, a backdrop

to the sad silence of each body

entering the newly dug cold clay.