Christy was an angel child,
His fair curls softening his face.
An old studio photo -
A lovely fair-curled girl,
Who turns out to be a boy,
My late uncle Cathal -
Infiltrates the pleasure of watching
My beautiful sons with pain
For I know there's no escaping
The fact that death will come again,
Cathal's beauty no protection against it,
Their mortality
Sadder than my own to me.