Maeve and Hugh came from the Old Country
and didn’t smell very good.
My father hid behind a chair
and popped up, “Are they gone?”
while they were still in the doorway.
Mom married him anyway.
With their brogues and silly thoughts,
they were like playthings
after they left down the stairs.
Hugh called and asked for Maeve,
“Me?” said Dad. “I’m me, who are you?”
“No,” said Dad. “I’m me, who are you?”
Grandma fed them tea
and listened to their silliness.
They were so far from home and family and good Cashel dirt.
The kitchen floor was covered with newspapers
and at night
she’d roll up the tea crumbs
to keep the floor clean.