Before he had sons, or she had brothers
he took her, as if she were a son.
He got her up at five, to set illegal lines for eel.
Crisp and early, behind the veil of morning
she remembered her delight, teeming out,
her voice, a hoarse screech,
her step catching up through deep dew grass.
Then by the river, his frame bent,
he taught her how to break a rule.
Like a child he displayed the procedure.
Like an adult she nodded and affirmed,
all serious, careful not to break the spell,
Knowing that he needed to show her.
Canal Walk Kilkenny Ireland
