In neon bright the message shone
– a single word, three letters – “ONE”.
I felt traduced and sat-upon,
I was reduced and woebegone.
Ou sont, quand-même, les neiges d’antan?
I am myself; my self I count
the egocentric-flowing fount…
I mount, dismount, remount, surmount
the troubles laid to my account,
and make each Mairi bheag miscount!









14 old applause
