Hannibal knew something that took

More than twenty years

            To lose.


I think this, walking the sandstone


To O’Hares Creek.



Carry off small pieces of shadow,

Enough, maybe, to make a heart.


What will they do with it

That I can’t? And the water



My daughter imitates on the weir


The same dull colour of car rims –


            What of it?

It has been here on this island

Fighting Romans all its life.