The Sounds of the Curragh

by Anne Gaynor

Listening to the sounds of the Curragh,
Smelling the air of the camp,
What goes through your heart
When you hear the harp play?
Each cord touches a place there.
Is it your mam, your sweetheart, your child?

Looking over the Curragh,
The land of Saint Brigid,
What did she say to you?
The three-leaf shamrock –
How it wound around your heart
Your faith, your love
Of freedom for this land.

Reproduced with kind permission of the author. This poem was composed in Poetry as Commemoration workshops held at Newbridge Library in January 2023. The workshops were led by writer Debbie Thomas and archivist Karel Kiely using archival material from the Curragh Internment Camp during the War of Independence.