Rusty old key stuck vertically in damp forest soil with fallen leaves

An Eochair

Introduction to An Eochair Sometimes the most meaningful things are not the ones that call out loudest – they are the ones half-hidden in mud and dust, waiting for someone to stop, kneel down, and look closely. This poem grew from such a moment: finding an old, rusted key lying where the ruts meet the … Continue reading An Eochair