We emerged from our prison like hostel with its high steel bunk beds and stained hairy blankets.
SKELLIG MICHAEL by Maria Doyle
the little one swung her skirt
to her own internal melody.
LOST IN TRANSLATION by Lesley McKay
When I finally went home, after it ended, the shoes had vanished, along with him and half the contents of the flat
THE PURPLE SHOES by Diana Morton
But if you have no mistakes then you must be in a mess
MOVING by May Al-Husseiny
He settled in slowly, but never quite managed to close the gap filled with bird-cries and wave-roar between him and the rest of the world.
AN ODYSSEUS by Anniken Blomberg
They will greet me
In a sea of golden rays – to lift my spirit.
YELLOW IS THE COLOUR OF MY LOVE by Ellen McMillan
It was to be a long journey, with two cats, two children and a suitcase full of shoes.
LEAVING by Teresa Dolan
get hot blood movin through veins;
break the chains of domesticity.
WINDOW SHOPPING by Donna Campbell
“Pardon me for walking aboot my ain hoose.” He pointed at the suitcase. “Are we going on holiday?”
PACKING UP by Ann Stewart
I keep the explosion in my mouth at bay,
CHRISTMAS 1995 by N Dosanjh
