I’m not one for an Irish Goodbye, that is, the kind of non-goodbye wherein the leave-taker slips out the door without giving notice. I like the kerfuffle and affection of partings—just ask my husband how long it takes my family to say goodbye. But I am in favor of an Irish Hello. Which is something I just made up.
An Irish Hello means showing up after a long absence without mentioning where you’ve been or why you’ve been gone. Excuses are boring anyway.
So here we are, together again. Dia dhuit! (That’s Hello in Irish.)
We’re about to embark on a literary gemellology.
Gemellology, in case you encounter the word in a trivia contest, is the study of twins.
I’ve recently acquired a set, courtesy of a dear niece. A boy and a girl fraternal twins, pictured above. Inspired by their births, and the resulting fascination with all things twins, I’m launching a series of poem twins.
None of the poems were birthed in the same time or place; none share the genetic material of diction or form. But they do share a vague likeness, a sensibility, an outlook, or preoccupation.
Sometimes the poems landed together quite by accident; sometimes, having found a poem I liked, I searched out its counterpart and paired the two intentionally. Sometimes the likeness may seem forced. But my hope is that however close or far the likenesses, pairing poems opens them up in new ways.
Stay tuned. First twins out this week.
* twins in Irish