The View from 1986

Burnt-out cars, stray horses, striding pylons,Grey-green grass. Beyond,And further, distant cranes. Flickering eyes;Winter sunlight through trainside trees. NylonsOn a gatepost, trophy or clean-up crew.A loping greyhound, rope leash trailing, childStill further back. Dog might as well be wild.Then fields. Millet, maize, or something else new;Dipping into the Eighties and back up.You can still see the twenty-first century;Not even half-made rudimentaryCranes graced depression Dublin's river-cup.Between the Wicklow Hills and northern NaulThe unseen Liffey will outlast it all.—