growing up (Remove filter)
POINTING AT BOATS
We’d cram into Dad’s Austin Wolseley,
like tinned kippers, unrolled
and unsalted in the back seat.
Smoking class was reserved, up front,
on our Sunday pilgrimage to visit Nana.
First to spot the waterfall was the winner.
Ben Bulben was fixed on our horizon,
feeling like a compass point,
it arced our path along the south coast of Donegal.
We never felt far from ho...
Wednesday 22nd May 2024 9:36 pm
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