In work, some days one might be the pigeon but most days one is the statue. Those five minutes allowed me to be neither.
In Dublin, I took a short detour towards College Green. My luck was in. Pat Ingoldsby was there. He had been contemplating packing up and heading home for the day, just a short while before.
I headed back to the train not just with a new book to add to the collection but also the joy brought by the recollection of that short conversation with Pat.
On the train, page 1 was opened and the first poem so hit home with my morning ‘interaction’ with the black SUV’s on the school run.
Míle buíochas Pat for shortening the journey.