The Appointment

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Flamingo silk. New ruff,
the ivory ghost
of a halter. Chestnut curls,

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commas behind the ear.
"Taller, by half a head,
than my Lord Walsingham."

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His Devon-cream brogue,
malt eyes. New cloak
mussed in her mud.

*

The Queen leans forward,
a rosy envelope of civet.
A cleavage

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whispering seed pearls.
Her own sleeve
rubs that speck of dirt

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on his cheek. Three thousand
ornamental fruit baskets
swing in the smoke.

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"It is our pleasure
to have our servant trained
some longer time

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in Ireland." Stamp out
marks of the Irish.
Their saffron smocks.

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All curroughs, bards
and rhymers. Desmonds
and Fitzgeralds

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stuck on low spikes,
an avenue of heads to
the war tent.


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Kerry timber
sold to the Canaries.
Pregnant girls

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hung in their own hair
on city walls. Plague
crumpling gargoyles

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through Munster. "They spoke
like ghosts crying
out of their graves."

© Ruth Padel