Uncle Matt

My father’s uncle Matt
           a quiet gentle man
who enjoyed a pint
           and would dress
for the occasion
           in his Sunday best

I remember
           his black leather boots
placed neatly
           at the side of the bed
and how quietly
           he slept

He was from Arklow
           and was often a lodger
but I never knew
           what he did nor did I ask
and so light on his feet
           he’d come and go like a ghost
and his brogue so soft
           you’d hardly hear
a single word :
           that’s all I can say

John Lyons