A Mhathair. A poem by Éiméar Connolly

I followed in her wake
but took a different path,
we both became essential.
The letters say so.
She goes before me,
all strength and quiet grace
into the line of fire.
I am the cavalry
to her infantry.
When my time comes
she is reason against fear,
voicing what to expect
at the gates,
over the barricades,
into the breach.
Love is reassurance,
social distancing and PPE,
the order of things,
To have dressing gowns
waiting in bathrooms,
after stripping at the front door.
We both wash
our hands
when we are anxious


Éiméar Connolly and her mother are both essential healthcare staff in one of the countries major hospitals. Éiméars poetry and writing has previously been published by “Skylight 47”, “Fudoki magazine” and by “For Women Who Roar” press.

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