My "Place of Clear Water"
The first hill in the world
Where springs wash into
The shiny gra**
And darkened cobbles
In the bed of the lane
Anahorish, soft gradient
Of consonant, vowel-meadow
Afterimage of lamps
Swung through the yards
On winter evenings
With pails and barrows
Those mound dwellers
Go waist-deep in mist
To break the light ice
At wells and dunghills