Like the flight of the wild geese another exile from Belfast must make a home away from home .

For some emigration is the only way to go .

“Let’s go,” said Sherri. “I’m almost finished,” Dan said. “See my bridge?” Sherri and Dan had been playing in the sand about two hours. “Mom wants us home. Soon.”

He stood facing the sea in silence. There was no one around to talk to or to listen to. He’d been working a lot and was tired. He needed a hot meal but it’d have to be a while yet.

my heart's torn... my mind's tied to a time when we'd sit in the sunshine and gaze into each other's eyes you were all smiles, and we could just talk for a while of you and me...

life is a mystery puzzles...questions i can't see voices trying to speak to me everyone around me living free

your hands and mine at our syncopated rythm