Circle Broken
April 20, 2012 in Wordsmoker
In loving memory of my brother, Patrick Halloran.
Circle Broken
The time has come,
Bear by Himself,
To talk of many things,
Of Sailing Ships, and harbor towns,
Where a man called Doyle is king,
And the origins of toilet bowls,
And how pigs, for sure, have wings Read the rest of this entry →
I sat there in the hard wooden chair mostly staring at my knees, occasionally adjusting my navy blue, cable knit knee socks. I had no idea why I was there, nor did my parents who were seated to either side of me in flimsy folding chairs. I have since come to realize that the seating arrangement was intentional, designed to cause discomfort.
1. I am the second of six children in an Irish (recovering) Catholic family. We had a cozy, idyllic, “Get Piggy!” upbringing.