The place was riddled with shortcuts,
tunnels of shoulder-high green
we scarpered down. Under foot
startled hares fluttered
like pigeons taking off.
We scrabbled in muck beside
the rubble of farms long gone,
grubbed up bits of blue and white,
boles of bleached clay pipes,
hollow stems light as bird bones.
We laid walls of brushwood
end to end, tall stalks
of willowherb to thatch a roof,
scratched a form in the grass
to go to ground in before we flew.
Annette Skade is from Manchester and lives on the Beara Peninsula, Ireland. Her first collection Thimblerig was published in 2013, following her receipt of the Cork Review Literary Manuscript prize in 2012. She has been published in various magazines in Ireland, the U.K. and the U.S. and has won and been placed in several international poetry competitions. annetteskade.com