Three heads together bending
across the kitchen table.
In close heated air
the range pours comfort
from its wood-stoked belly.
Christ with gentle face
and soft brown ringlets
looks down
from his rose-embellished
oval frame.
Three heads of close-curled hair,
three translucent pairs
of grey eyes, three smiling mouths,
murmuring conspiracies,
jokes half-spoken,
fully understood,
elaborated by the hearers’ answers,
chuckles, outright laughter
welling up in pauses.
Three different lives, bound
by a common past, loose chains,
links of love and care,
three brothers, three sons,
three Dempseys of Kildare.
Janice Windle
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/irish-poems-three/
