Knock International Airport

for Cathal Duffy

I was there once or twice on the hilltop

with him and without

distracted by all the luxury of this raised bogland

with its wide skirts or countryside around

bathing in a shower of grey and purple light

feeling what others must have felt before

the saintly art of making something out of make-believe

while he dreams practically of the future

rooted in the past with deep intent

The good quarter master general he is

the store of treasures in and on the hillside are untouchable

this watchful guardian has many other senses too

and the jaws of an old swamp crocodile

snapping at everything that moves

all stand well back from the waterside

thirsting to swim but knowing better

I have seen great jets roar off his shoulder

diving into the sun and I never heard him say

they were going to meet at the other end

the old enemy

One morning his mother sent a messenger

from her teaching post

a message to the sleeping one

to drive a neighbour’s cattle to another grazing field

the bank manager pulled his grey Wolseley into the side

didn’t know you had cattle

come down and see me sometime

and he did

tied his lunch to a string

and never looked back

The qualities of kindness and quiet concern

blended with the chieftain will

walking the reluctant confessor around to soap the rope

(so help me Bob)

just as the hazel berry needs a hazel rod and thread

to catch the silver trout

the airport fed upon

joking apart all the extravagance and the fury in his Celtic heart