On A Tuesday In Amsterdam Long Ago

A picture of Amsterdam
Bare trees under glass
Framed in the afternoon light
Of a winter long past
When I was a raiser
To Dublin I’d roam
She was a bareback rider
Some miles from home
Come back to me
She’s a carnival driver
Hung in the sky
Cutting through time like a memory
Strung on a wire
The color of anything
Fades in the air
But she is the film of a book of the story
Of the smell of her hair
Come back to me
When every thing’s over
And every thing’s clear
When everyone’s older
And no one is here
I try to remember
A girl on a wire
Tumbling and diving above Stephen’s Green
Like a kite on the air
Come back to me