II

Where in the wind's high or low room we might find a child's
wind-sock, wooden pigeon or 737, the paddling pool uplifted
from our lawn. This the southerly's argument: snow in the middle
of summer, the departed Flann O'Brien tee-shirt, Golden Boy deck-
chair, Mondrian teatowel, leaves the shape of every country of a
rearranged world, all headed upwards, to god, Saint Augustine,
someone.