Poem

Prague

Of stone, quarried
In the mind from
River banks
And deep places
Of earth where
Bronze tips
Lodged in decayed
Chests of vanished
Creatures, city
Of work horses
And alchemists,
Palaces and back
Alleys, jumble
Of language, pressure
Point of sovereignty,
Place I have never
Seen but where
My old ones
Walked for a thousand
Years, knuckle
On the hand of Europe,
Signature of the arrest
Warrant at the station.