Kites
there’s a dream caught in the kite
stuck high in the tree—
billowing freedom
the playful steps of squirrels chasing each other—
blindly
round and around, clinging
to eighty rings of trunken life
time passes, loved ones leave,
there's an inflection point on solstice eve
a fox passes the kitchen window for a sixth day in a row,
brazenly sunbathing atop a box,
like a dog in the day
a memory plume steals me back to a seductive scene,
every man in the room turned punk electric—
in the palm of her hand
she throws herself into the crowd, to the wolves,
bodysurfs their risen paws—
trustfall
that we could bear the mystery, the lack of certainty
this chinked life brings,
taking only what we need
to thrive
cups crack. bowls break
the bathroom wants to be clean again
children push from bow—
to arrowed flight
butterflied expansive life, sifts for diamonds in the frosted light—
we all want the same thing,
sound it differently
I squint to read the side of the box,
and wonder should I be taking this medicine
or is this your work to do?
‘Look! how the trees talk to one another’
Solstice morning, Bull Island, Clontarf, Dublin
Wolf Alice, 3 Arena, Dublin
I've been busy with work lately I've not had time to write. I'm hoping that in 2026 this impulse will find me again. For no other reason than it keeps me open, noticing ... and nourishes me.
I caught the rise on Solstice morning on Clontarf Strand in Dublin. It anchored my busy head.
I'm wishing for a peaceful, loving Christmas and New Year for us all. Sending love from Dublin town. Good things come from winter's womb.Irish folk band




so nice seeing you and reading you!
Merry Christmas- and Happy New Year
I agree with Chen, nice to see you and read you again. Seasons Greetings and all that :)