I remember

I remember as a child
gazing in wonder from the circling plane
at the green, field-tilting earth rising to meet it.
Clouds hung grey and rain-swollen,
light dim and moist
but the fields were the colour of dreams.
A fragment, a seed, a memory
fell from the heart’s molten core
into the heavenly green
and tied me with subtle strings
to that first sight of home.
And when the strings pull tight and draw me back
it is not to mountains or lakes or the bellowing cliffs,
but to a field and a wall of grey stone,
that first sight of the green hills of home.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

10 thoughts on “I remember”

    1. Thanks, Jane. I was just in the mood for making myself cry. I think it’s that end of summer feeling. The sun’s not quite so hot, the kids are going back to school, and it’s downhill all the way to the winter.

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