At Home In Ireland, There's A Habit

Two Buckets Were Easier Carried Than One. / I Grew Up In Between.

Believe That A Further Shore Is Reachable From Here.

When I Was Teaching, I Gave A Lot Of My Mind And Anxiety To It. There Was Always Something Clenched And Anxious In Me Until The Classes Were Over.

Once Off The Bush The Fruit Fermented, The Sweet Flesh Would Turn Sour. I Always Felt Like Crying. It Wasn't Fair That All The Lovely Canfuls Smelt Of Rot. Each Year I Hoped They'd Keep, Knew They Would Not. -blackberry Picking

But That Citizen's Perception Was Also At One With The Truth In Recognizing That The Very Brutality Of The Means By Which The Ira Were Pursuing Change Was Destructive Of The Trust Upon Which New Possibilities Would Have To Be Based.