• Poetry
  • Mayfly

    No pity for the mayfly,
    Or envy for the evergreen,

    No moon tonight,
    Just drizzle in the street lamps,

    Tea lights drift in the window,
    And the crows have settled down.

    The city is holding its breath,
    Fingers drift over silk,

    In the time between
    The lightening and the thunder,

    We conduct our secret affair.

  • Poetry
  • Rock pools

    What the tide left behind;
    barnacles and whale songs,
    and a few of the best parts
    of my father.

    Dún Laoghaire is a stone
    lifeboat that rises and falls,
    but it’s a long town
    for little legs,

    so we made a giant
    (you only get lighter)
    and we made a slow-witted bear,
    and we ran in the spray
    as the shore gently sank.

    Dún Laoghaire is a sand
    castle, but the sea
    doesn’t scare you.
    As it washes away at your feet,
    lighter and lighter you become.