Wedding Morning

Down the church gravel where the bridal car
      Gleams at the gate among the waifs and strays
And women of Milewater, formal wear
      And fashion's joker hats wink in the breeze.

Past, the hushed progress under sprays of broom
      And choirs of altar lilies, when all eyes
Went brimming with her and the white-lipped groom
      Brought her to kneel beside him. Past, the sighs;

Ahead lies the gaiety of her father's hall
      Thrown open to the chatter of champagne,
The poised photographer, the flying veil,
      The motors crowded on the squandered lawn.

Down the bright gravel stroll the families
      With Blood, the trader, profiting in their peace.

from Downstream (1962) included in Collected PoemsI

Thomas Kinsella stands apart in modern Irish poetry. His work, employing traditional and modernist elements in individual poems and open sequences, deals in a range fo subjects from the most intense and psychic privacy to political satire and social commentary, from love and the enabling feminine to metaphysical speculation in a variety of earthly settings.