[audio:cuba.mp3] (1:11)
read by Paul Muldoon. audio from paulmuldoon.net
My eldest sister arrived home that morning
In her white muslin evening dress.
‘Who the hell do you think you are
Running out to dances in next to nothing?
As though we hadn’t enough bother
With the world at war, if not at an end.’
My father was pounding the breakfast-table.