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
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