Using the Irish Bog-oak pen given to me on Mother’s day and a day gardening – this was the result –
Yesterday was spent digging turf.
Grass making way for raised beds;
my spade marked the squares to be lifted.
As I dug, I thought of folk
digging peat, digging the past
revealed in ancient blackened layers.
Today I dig down into memories
lifted from shoe boxes – photographs
that cast my mind back over years.
Now I dig deep with a pen as I
scribble, draft, redraft to recapture
scenes, emotions that emerge.
I dig again for words to reveal those
times that have been hidden away.
Hidden in a size eleven shoe box.