Smithfield, Co. Dublin / the mare 

I was at the travellers' horse fair in Smithfield
but you were not there and I missed you

the horses huddled rump to front almost still
the lines of their backs rolled like hills
horizons of sea clouds far mountains
I missed you

longing filled up the old chimney in Smithfield

as a traveller youth I was soon riding bareback
towards you

I wasn't right there smack before you
until I realised you were
the muzzle the soft eyes and mane
as sure as I was rump and tail 
of the mare
of imagination