omagh - thursday

glass (though seeming fragile)
now is built for seeing through
is like the letter o (in omagh)
that turns around like time
is strong enough to hold the bag of truth

the river bed is fed by august rain
(takes the strain)
but this glass world's of sterner block
- hope's calling of the towered dream
is mortared in the grain and solid rock

we are small here
we watch the traffic cutting at the leash
an ulsterbus smooths round
as if it's always done
it whispers on its wheels

omagh blood and omagh sand
omagh sand and blood
one pumps around the veins
one keeps the vision up