Now I can see clearly why she dwelt
so long a shadow in my forgetory:
even the memory of her
would have rudely transformed me
from Don Quixote into Bonaparte!
Being a man of peace, down, down
I cast her into that oblivion.
But now, now that I’m ready for the road
to Waterloo, she’s left the field…
* * *
Gregory V Driscoll 2012
