Means is a ruler
When freedom strikes
Odd –eyed and ponyed- up
This after a nightmare
That ran for weeks
Not placing
Only for a moment
A blood -orange sun
Was hung
As though the blur
Was nowhere fast
The emergency use of irony
Comes to construct
Anything it can’t run down
Your inaugural
Lies outside
A narrow stream
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2014
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