When mum-n-dad

dragged Jodie and Jamie and me round Ireland

and her saying all the time we should be in Estonia

not Ireland

mum having flaxen hair and glomesh skin

and her eyes a paler blue than Irish

and the iron curtain coming down

crushing toes of escapees in my dreams

and those grandmas grandpas aunts uncles cousins

maybe still alive well at least some of them

or even one