By David Jordan
I swear these long nights
Stir my blood
And steer my spirit northward
Like a long boat headed home.
For the imagination feeds
On the darkness like a flame
And tonight I imagine myself as
A man of the North:
Cross countenance, long bones.
Leaping on to the sandy shore.
Bringing alien gods to the natives:
The loquacious Gael.
The nature loving, melancholy,
Aristocratic Gael.
After a thousand years
Surely the stranger is gone from the house?
Tonight, I swear I am a citizen
Of the imagination:
Emancipated.
In flight.