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Remembrance Sunday 2020 – for my Grandfather
My grandfather died on June 22, 1977, a decade before the Enniskillen bombing. Had he been alive on that day, he would have been wearing his pressed suit, with medals and a poppy attached to the lapels, not unlike those pensioners gathered respectfully at the Cenotaph where at 10:43am where, with chilling choreography, an IRA bomb exploded, killing eleven and…
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Death of parent, Dispatch from the Diaspora, Father's Day, Fatherless daughters, learning to drive, Milestones, riding a bicycle
just like riding a bike . . . taking the strain on father’s day
“The first grip I ever got on thingsWas when I learnt the art of pedalling(By hand) a bike turned upside down, and droveIts back wheel preternaturally fast.” ~ from Wheels within Wheels by SEAMUS HEANEY My first bike arrived on Christmas morning, 1967. It had training wheels, or “stabilizers” as we called them in Northern Ireland. Stabilizers – my first big word.…
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Aging, Art, Bob Dylan, Daniel Kramer, Dispatch from the Diaspora, It's Not Dark Yet, Michael Gray, Photography, Positively 4th Street, Street Legal, Tangled up in Blue, Where Are You Tonight? Subterranean Homesick Blues
For Bob Dylan on his Birthday – in Black & White
Bob Dylan has always been almost as old as my parents. He has also always been forever young, staring up at me from the cover of a book that has graced my coffee table for decades. When was it when a Dylan song first mattered to me? I can’t be sure, yet I can’t remember a time when it didn’t,…
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en cuarentena & the rare ould times
Having now spent most of every day for sixty days in a beautiful house that is not yet home, this quarantine has me in its grip, a relentless barrage of questions about Coronavirus keeping me apart from and a part of a world that feels adrift and different. How do I escape it? When will it end? Will I ever…
