an entrance
[ OOM: The miracle of an easy birth.]
An old lady proceeds to enter through the front door. Most people have probably never seen her before.
But they may recognise her. Maybe if they've visited Ireland, or maybe even if they just look closely at the face, they'll recognise something of her old self.
What they may not recognise is the small, still bundle that's wrapped in her arms. Or the way she hobbles, her shoulders hunched, to the chair beside the fireplace, her silver hair splaying over the winged back, coddling the infant in her arms.
And she knows that it'll be her last time here.
Sheila-na-gig has come to say goodbye.
An old lady proceeds to enter through the front door. Most people have probably never seen her before.
But they may recognise her. Maybe if they've visited Ireland, or maybe even if they just look closely at the face, they'll recognise something of her old self.
What they may not recognise is the small, still bundle that's wrapped in her arms. Or the way she hobbles, her shoulders hunched, to the chair beside the fireplace, her silver hair splaying over the winged back, coddling the infant in her arms.
And she knows that it'll be her last time here.
Sheila-na-gig has come to say goodbye.