We Are Always Too Late ( Read more... )

Distances
Eavan Boland

The radio is playing downstairs in the kitchen.
The clock says eight and the light says
winter. You are pulling up your hood against a bad morning.

Don't leave, I say. Don't go without telling me
the name of that song. You call it back to me from the stairs-
'I Wish I Was in Carrickfergus'

and the words open out with emigrant ( Read more... )