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Book Book

Monday to Saturday / 9am to 6pm

Sunday / 1pm to 4pm

Memorial Spiral

by Poet in Residence, Julia McGuinness

Self-contained as snails,
crunch of fallen stars underfoot,
fragments of dreams distant as galaxies,
we snake round blind corners.

We smell the rawness of rocks,
shoulder to shoulder, lining the path.
They loom naked, cold, hushed.
Our skin aches with absence of touch.

As we track back out of the storm’s eye,
We claim the rocks – the loved, the lost,
the strangers beyond our naming.
Some have entertained angels unawares.

We turn and turn, unfold as plants
to let each leaf receive the sun.
With the whorled imprint of fingertips,
hands reach out to bless the future.