Left Out

The Irish barman
jokes with me in the morning
whilst we play darts.

My father lets me
help him place washed glasses
back on their shelves.

My mother lets me
place my hand so I can feel
baby in her tummy

My granny scolds me
for drinking milk from the fridge:
cold, unlike at school.

That night, my father
serves pints to the regulars
downstairs in the bar.

Upstairs my granny
delivers baby brother:
the midwife’s too late.

I’m left alone
weeping into the curtain
forgotten by all.