Father Son and Holy Ghost
I have not ever seen my father’s grave.
Not that his judgment eyes . . .
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Fermanagh Cave
An emerald dungeon’s blacklight glow
glimmered in the deeper reaches
where my son and I could hear the slub . . .
Fern Hill
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry, . . .
Fever
The heat so peaked tonight
the moon can’t cool
. . .
Fierce Girl Playing Hopscotch
You sway like a crane to the tunes of tossed stones.
I am what you made to live in
from what you had: hair matted as kelp, bad schools. . . .
Filling Station
Oh, but it is dirty!
—this little filling station,
oil-soaked, oil-permeated . . .
The Film
Come, let’s go in.
The ticket-taker
has shyly grinned . . .
“Find Work”
My mother’s mother, widowed very young
of her first love, and of that love’s first fruit,
moved through her father’s farm, her country tongue . . .
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire . . .
First Job
All evening I hunted
the bird that wanted
a cage of glass,
. . .