I said it’s hard to know where to belong
Sligo or Mayo, wherever you’re from

Hard to know whether it makes sense to go
Beyond the abundance of places you know

Call to mind all of the dream-lands you yearn
The fingertip trace of the flesh as you learn

The abstract and actual, landscape and plough
Maps of mine workings uncovered below

Go back again and leave me no trace
But the hope of your image in this other place

While places unravel and make themselves wrong
And Sligo or Mayo is where we belong