When I read Michael Hartnett

the first time, I found
a poet who rhymed
the way I do,
and felt a kinship immediately.

Immediately,
with that poem, I knew
the way I rhymed
was hoarfrost, rising above ground.

That he was Irish and he
wrote from a hunger
the way I write,
was all the proof I needed.

I needed
his energy to write
our hungers
as poetry.