My aunt always wore her shamrock,
made a great show
in front of the mirror
bunching it together
with silver paper.

She would stop off
at the convent on the way home,
pick a bunch of flowers,
tell me, the wee nuns
have the best blooms.

Kept a bottle of holy water
she had sneaked from the chapel
in her handbag,
a found St Christopher
in her purse.

She told me once,
religion was a funny thing,
it didn’t do any harm
to be on both sides.