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