When I was little, we lived with my grandparents and later, when my parents had a place of their own, I spent most of the summer holidays with them. If I wasn’t staying over, my nan would collect me in the morning and take me all the way back at the end of the day. […]
Tag: Haibun Monday
Labour Day
No wonder they call it labour – it’s hard work! The build-up was difficult enough, what with the move from Germany to Ireland via London, getting to know new people and surroundings, having to travel forty miles and back to the nearest hospital for check-ups, and then falling over a paving stone on my way […]
Hiroshima Shadow
Where a bicycle bell once tinkled, a memorial bell now tolls. When the clouds lifted and radioactive dust had settled, only shadows remained, ghosts burned into concrete, brick and stone, haunting the ash-covered landscape. What happened to the bike and its owner? Only the faded outline remained, and the hope that someone returned and rode […]
Lest We Forget
I’m not one for parades or any kind of gathering where there are crowds of people – they panic me, and I feel unsafe. I prefer to keep the memory of the people who died at war with a poppy on 11th November, known as Remembrance Sunday. There are many kinds of poppy these days, […]
Picnic Under the Stairs
When I was nine or ten, we moved from a two-bedroom ground floor maisonette to a three-bedroom top floor maisonette on the same estate. I got the box room: it had a huge box that was the top of the stairs, which took up almost a quarter of the floor space, leaving room for a […]
A Fool for April
In these days of fake news, I wonder whether pranks will be played in The White House. There have been some interesting April Fools’ jokes in the newspapers and on television throughout modern history. In 2017, the Irish Times reported that Dublin was getting its very own ‘Trump Tower’, when it revealed that ‘Trump Dublin’ […]
The Solitude of Green
It is never lonely in our garden; there is no despair or desolation, just the solitude of green. Even in winter, I am embraced by green: the bending of the grass to my feet; the fresh shoots of snowdrop and daffodil braving the frost and ice; the murmuring of branch and leaf although, at this […]
