RIP: Shirley McClure

I was very sad to hear of the passing of the poet Shirley McClure today. Since meeting Shirley at the launch of her second collect, Stone Dress (Arlen House), she has been very kind to me in my own writing. In Carlow, we had the pleasure of her company with Jane Clarke and Breda Wall Ryan, which Derek (director of the Carlow Writers’ Group) coined as the poetic version of the Woman’s Heart tour when she read in Carlow Library a couple of years ago. I almost could have been labelled a “Shirley Groupie” after seeing her read in Kilkenny around this time last year with Jane Clarke and Mark Roper. Stone Dress is one of the few poetry books I have lent to my friends as I am generally insecure about recommending poetry, but this book, for me, is one I have had no hesitation in recommending. When I went to the launch last August in Dublin, it was the humour of some of the topics of her poems, for example, the best thing about falling down the stairs and how her nipple reconstruction was so greatly admired by a nurse to possibly warrant a modelling contract. However, in the mix of the humour were other strong emotions of hope, sadness and struggle.  The last time I met Shirley was at the West Cork Literary Festival where she was doing a poetry workshop with Jo Shapcott. I wish her family my sympathies.