The oaks are stricken by a serious illness
They dry up after having let go
Into the glow of a sump at sunset
A whole throng of generals’ heads
(Eavan Boland)
More Poetry from Eavan Boland:
- Witness (Eavan Boland Poem)
- The Harbour (Eavan Boland Poem)
- The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me (Eavan Boland Poem)
- Outside History (Eavan Boland Poem)
- Quarantine (Eavan Boland Poem)
- That the Science of Cartography Is Limited (Eavan Boland Poem)