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Song of Eire This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   Our ancestors have said, "Is maith anscealaia an aimsir." (Time is a greatstoryteller.)

I like to sit on the creaky swing, the onethat Nora gave a fresh coat of rose paint. I sit there, and stare off towhere the Aran Islands meet the horizon. I like to wonder what is beyondthem. I like to taste the salty breeze off the bay and feel it brushagainst my cheeks. I like to feel as though I belong.

On the bay,I spy a man hauling in his net, hoping for a big catch, hoping to sendhis daughters to the Harvest Dance in fine dresses. He is lonely outthere on the water. I am lonely, too.

The rains begin to tumblegently from the skies. I let them fall against me. I like to feel thewater splashing my face and seeping through my clothing. I do not fearthe water. Someday, I'd like to fall asleep in the velvet black blanketof Galway Bay.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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