I am willing to accept whichever comes first.
There is no longer the certainty of planting
for spring before it turns to summer, or meet with
friends for tea and empathy. We each retreat home.
I stay inside, try to track its path, study curves until
deciding that my fate is now in someone else’s corner
I do my bit, hands, handles, hankies it gives me back
some sense of control and perhaps it is my only shield
against its virulent pursuit of hosts. The weather turned
and my focus changed to uprooting weeds between stones,
to repainting slate grey decking. Some woodlice tried to out
run me. I gathered them, left them with the upturned worms.
Doreena has been writing from the age of twelve. Her writing is like a diary, reflecting life’s ever-changing emotional landscape. She writes about her early life, the echo of relationships in nature, and the tragic death of her son. She is a member of the award winning ‘Carlow Writers Co-op’. She had contributed to many local anthologies. She is excellent at performing her work and has delivered it to audiences in Chicago, Sweden, Wales, Dublin, Wexford and Carlow. Currently finishing her debut collection.