Poetry by David Harris Bubble All those questions.The woman is nice enoughBut she asks me questions.Couldn’t answer one. Here’s another–‘Do you know where you are?’At last, success.‘Of course I know.’‘I’m here.’ Not ‘In the clinic…’ or ‘In the ambulance…’but ‘here’.Beautiful in simplicityand truth. ‘Here’. It follows me, surrounds me,I am in an ever-present wrapping of‘here’. … Continue reading →

I envied Peig’s status in the family as a peata, a ‘pet’ and how her big brother carried her around in a bhaclainn ‘in his arms’. I loved how kindly the teachers and neighbours treated her. Continue reading →