Classic Poem

The oven is getting warm. She sits in her apron with the big
Orange blocks cleaning the birds and I smell the potatoes
On the stove boiling and I see how her face is pale from
My child in her belly. Someone is away who never speaks of
Saint Patrick someone is away as an Irishman is away from
His country. Great people leave their country sooner
Or later. Don't ask me to prove there is a moon in the sky
Tonight, don't ask me to show you where the sun leaves off
And the moon begins. Let us keep some faith in miracles.
Whoever you are I ask you to come running to help me I am in
Trouble and I need you. Whoever you are I don't need you for I
Am a strong man when I am alone. I am strong enough for all
The strong men to turn to when they are tired of being strong
And want to say to someone anyone that has ears I am tired I
Want to rest. I want to go visit the inn tonight. I want to
Have on my knees the pretty girl who serves me and
Hold her as if she were the moon herself who had mistook
The lights that shine on clear nights in the dark blue sky
For an audience that rustles the program with polished
Fingers. O damn all this. I could get the pope into
A good humor and say tell me Father because my father is dead
Tell me if Ireland will remember her and if the boys will go
Singing over the hills at dawn in the cold when they think of
Her. I am a son without brothers. A soldier with no friends.