Eavan Boland

Debbie (Downer) does Mother’s Day

It’s a good thing I passed by a playground before I found the cemetery I was on the hunt for. Because “Happy Mother’s Day, I see dead people” is twisted, even for a twisty elf like me.   But I do see dead people this Mother’s Day—my mother who died the week before Mother’s Day […]


gone, baby, gone

Then by Eavan Boland Where are the lives we lived when we were young? Our kisses, the heat of our skin, our bitter words? The first waking to the first child’s cry? With just three questions and four lines, Irish poet Eavan Boland pulls up memories for me so swiftly and so abundantly that the […]