https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/tags/memory/Recent content in Memory on first-folio.demo.lobb.ieHugoen-GB-oed© 2023-2026 Taḋg Paul — Apache License 2.0Tue, 12 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/harbour/Tue, 12 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/harbour/<div class="poem"> At low tide the harbour empties to mud and the ribs of old boats. The water goes out like a secret someone decided to keep. We sat on the wall and ate chips. The vinegar stung a cut on my thumb. You said something about the future. The gulls were not interested. The tide came back, as tides do, and covered everything we had been looking at. </div>https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/thread/Tue, 05 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/thread/<div class="poem"> In the sewing box: a thimble, three buttons from a coat nobody remembers wearing, and a length of thread still knotted at one end. She could fix anything. The thread is evidence. The knot is proof of intention. The coat is gone but the buttons remain, patient as stones. </div>https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/glass/Fri, 01 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000https://first-folio.demo.lobb.ie/poetry/half-remembered/glass/<div class="poem"> There was a pane of glass in the back door that had a bubble in it. When you looked through the bubble, the garden bent. The apple tree swam. They replaced the door eventually. The new glass was perfect. I never looked through it. </div>