The windows are open;
Air from the garden
Will freshen your room.
A hurricane brought you
And took you away:
You are part of its force.
The shoreline before me
Recedes and advances;
My boat is becalmed. Continue reading
The windows are open;
Air from the garden
Will freshen your room.
A hurricane brought you
And took you away:
You are part of its force.
The shoreline before me
Recedes and advances;
My boat is becalmed. Continue reading →
Filed under Biography, Blogging, Ireland, Memories, Philosophy of life, Poems, Religion, Stories
Tagged as bereavement, loss, love, Sean O'Brien