Poem | The Nation

Thank Gerard
Cascade: rain torrential rain
waterfalls down our stone facade.

Our fields lately fire-parched
now glossy cross the flat rise
you ploughed earlier. The whole
length of one sillion-streak gleams

Gerard

cut-stroke the sillion the gash
we have in mind is your mind
         lifting muck-life
turned sunstruck to each side
silvershot at low sunset after the rain
every drop cataract
is not this the rain
we have longed for, you and I

       God to you
       hold him close-folded
       above his sillion
       Loft him Halo him
       Prize him high, pen in hand
       his two uprooted feet
       flailing awkward rain-streaked

       below his healing blooded knees.