Excerpt from Ode to Tio Caliço and Tia Dores

Grandaunt Dores was our lady-of-the-harbour

the single torch-lit hermitage I came to pilgrimage

Moored, by faith, to her bottomless vessel

she kept mainly indoors in the darkness,

a light caring morning and night for Granduncle Caliço

Granduncle Caliço had been a ship’s corporal

enamoured by sea and skipper’s daughters

He’d circled the globe

before settling down to make a home

by the seaside,

be harbour master there

As newlyweds, they lived in Lisbon

but sunny Quarteira became their main anchor

in a house they rented

for the rest of their lives

with only nephews and nieces to name and baptize

Tio Caliço gave me the money to come to Canada,

Pai made sure we heard

hoping something would jell

telling all that Uncle Caliço had done for him

So every time we visited Portugal we visited them

We’d sit int their dark diningroom

cool and friendly

speak when spoken to

hear their voices and stories

until Aunt Dores repeated everything Uncle Caliço said:

from the dragon tea set from his trip to the Orient

to the rainbow-feathered cockerel from India

to the proper way to eat deep-fried baby sardines

while in their backyard, bunnies hopped

Then off we’d go, only the four of us...