The Tuesday poem

Recovery Room, Maternity Ward (for Savita Halappanavar)

The procedure complete,

I wake alone, weak under starched sheets.

As the hospital sleeps, my fingers fumble

over the sutured scar, a jagged map

of mourning stitched into my skin —

empty without and empty within.

Someday, within these walls,

I will hear my baby cry.

Cradling my hollowed womb,

I trace this new wound and weep.

The only sound I hear is the fading retreat

of a doctor’s footsteps, echoing my heartbeat.

Doireann Ní Ghríofa lives in Ballincollig. The Arts Council has awarded her a literature bursary. She has published two collections with Coiscéim, Résheoid and Dúlasair. In 2012, she was a winner of the Wigtown Gaelic poetry contest — the Scottish National Poetry Prize. Her short collection of poems in English Ouroboros was recently long-listed for The Venture Award (UK).

* For more check out


The biggest cancer killer will take your breath away

Hopefully she had an idea...

Power of the press: Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks discuss 'The Post'

More From The Irish Examiner