Watching my grandmother view ‘The Song of the Lark’ ‘89/‘26: a Snám Suad
 
Peach skin wrists,
Watch persists
Her through time
Suffusing.
Scythe in hand,
Walk the land-
Heart commands
Amusing.

Lark in song
Sings along,
Mind made of
Believing.
Setting sun,
Not rising one,
Times hands hung
Deceiving.

Watch face cracked,
Ghosts give fact
To the mind
Diminished.
Full moon’s light,
Worse the blight,
Still her plight
Unfinished:

In her dreams,
Bird song schemes;
She’s back in Chicago.
What is true
Her time’s through,
Too far to
Chicago.

Hannah Coyle is an Irish poet, poetic artist, and creative journalist, based in Wales whose work focuses on challenging institutions and oppressive structures. Her recent work has featured familial, cultural and political voices from the North of Ireland, from which she draws most of her inspiration. Coyle graduation from Cardiff University with a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing in 2025 and has since started her own creative journalism platform to elevate other creatives called The Heron Took Flight.