P.A. Lynch is a writer based in Galway. Their work explores place, memory, and interior states, often focusing on moments of quiet encounter and emotional attentiveness. They are interested in how inner landscapes intersect with physical environments, and how this shapes experiences of belonging and connection. Their writing attends closely to the textures of everyday life, with an emphasis on stillness, presence, and emotional nuance, particularly within familiar places and ordinary moments.

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This Place

I follow the trawler who crawls across the bay
Traversing the space that lies between my mind
And the long stretch out to Mutton Island, that sits atop the horizon
This place… The only home that I have ever cared to know

The bouncing birds whose chests brim with crimson
They dig deep for the worm who works the soil
Appearing rushed, in a frenzy
Desperate to fill bellies before the descent of dusk

The slightest tint of purple strokes the skies
As the light of our sun begins her goodbyes
Soon all she knows will be clothed in darkness
As the city drifts into a slumber

I float now above all of this
Over the canals and the streets that are drowned in silence
Everything seems to dissolve
And I can foresee no tomorrow

Then the blue begins to break
The patron saint of our town
And I know that here I will always be safe
This place… The only home that I have ever cared to know

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Cocoon

Meditative bliss
Fingers that fall across this body
In an attempt to express what words cannot
Slowly raising, they point for the moon

This ink will dry
As the colour of your eye changes
And the rivers flow outwards, up into the skies
As we are enveloped in starlight

A soulful collision
Through momentary collapse
This is no first meeting, but a reunion
As if we have known one another forever

The hours and days liquify
As our minds blend into one
This state is a refuge
Our kaleidoscopic reprieve

Let us stay here
Let us stay here, just a little bit longer…

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Old Friends

Images dissolve in a vacuum of memory
The only place that I can see them now
I awake to wonder if they think of me still…
Or am I alone in this?

The world that I knew when I was a child
Feels so very far away
And every face seems distant and strange
Have they forgotten even the sound of my name?

Where has this life taken you?
Are your skies still painted blue?
Are you beaten, battered, and bruised?
Do you ever feel lonely?

I pray that there will soon come a time
When every one of our stars align
Then we will all become children again
I will wait for you there, my friends

I awake to wonder if they think of me still…
Or am I alone in this?