Maeve O’Sullivan

Holy Ghost Father

It’s a balmy day in June. I take the train and travel north along Dublin Bay to meet Father D. Our handsome, charismatic uncle is very popular with his many nieces and nephews, so it’s a special treat to meet him alone. He’s waiting for me at Westland Row and we walk up towards Stephen’s Green, where he now has a role as chaplain in the College of Surgeons. He stops to talk to a homeless man en route, writing something onto a piece of paper and handing it to him. I prefer to invite them over for a meal rather than giving them cash. When we get to the college, he gives me a short tour, and tells me about the many Middle Eastern and African students.

newly installed
a carpet with parallel lines
facing Mecca

Over lunch, Uncle D. becomes incensed while talking about the “immoral” people who make millions out of stocks and shares, when so many in the world are sick and hungry, like the Biafrans to whom he ministered a decade earlier. Then he softens and focusses on me: How is school treating you? And are you enjoying your other hobbies: the music and the drama? I tell him that I’ve been doing lots of babysitting this year, and that the extra pocket money pays for treats like ice-creams, cinema tickets and new strings for my guitar. We finish our desserts and he walks me back to the station.

new millennium—
the news filters through—
two surprise cousins

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About the Author

Maeve O’Sullivan’s poetry and haikai have been widely published, anthologized, and translated. She is the author of six collections from Alba Publishing, the latest of which, Where All Ladders Start (2024), received funding from the Arts Council of Ireland. A professional member of the British Haiku Society and the Irish Writers’ Centre, she leads workshops in haiku. www.maeveosullivan.com

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