Cailín Frankland
My mother,
the fourth of five children—or
the sixth of seven, if you count the ones
granny gave away—used to sing
me to sleep. Tales of famine and fever,
lyrics of the lost and losing—she raised
me on old Irish grief, dirges dressed
as lullabies.
I still wake to the ghost of
Molly Malone, to plaintive ringing in my ears.
Cailín Frankland (she/they) is a British-American writer and public health professional. They live in Baltimore with their spouse, two old lady cats, and a 70-pound pitbull affectionately known as Baby. You can find them on X as @cailin_sm.
‘Alive, Alive, Oh’ was Highly Commended in the Briefly Write Poetry Prize 2025.
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