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