A Wonder In Sepia
From beneath the dusty layers
Of paper old and brown
A wonder in fading sepia
A face at last put to a name.
I was rooted to the spot
She died long before I was conceived
Yet I’d know her all my life
Bridget Flynn, from the Hill of the Moon
She of the lilting voice and dancing feet
who had tamed the heart of Red Liam
and punctuated the passing years
with nine wailing nativities
clothing them in history and honesty.
Then watched her son’s march off
to die one by one on far flung shores,
see her daughter give herself to God
Yet could still rise above that sadness
To sing the songs of Meave
upon the Hill of the Moon.
My chest tightened because
Here, held in my trembling hand
I saw for the first time
The smile of Bridget Brennan nee Flynn
'Sleep well Matty My old friend
I’ll hold our laughter in trust until we meet again.'