Ay-Vuh
Eva and Ava were two sisters twin.
They had the same name but not the same skin.
Whichever was called their heads would both spin,
A me-or-she moment would promptly begin.
It got to get old, they longered in chin,
Mixed in mix-ups as they’d constantly been.
So try to imagine their dread and chagrin
That triply sad triply bad dinner when
They learned a new Aoife’s their soon-to-be kin.
They had the same name but not the same skin.
Whichever was called their heads would both spin,
A me-or-she moment would promptly begin.
It got to get old, they longered in chin,
Mixed in mix-ups as they’d constantly been.
So try to imagine their dread and chagrin
That triply sad triply bad dinner when
They learned a new Aoife’s their soon-to-be kin.
This poem is copyright (©) Devin Cain 2026
About the Writer
Devin Cain
Devin is a middle-aged lawyer living and practising in New York, finding inspiration to rekindle his love of writing poetry from his two children and their many friends. He has published poetry in the zine Peaches and Bats (which Devin says was about twenty years ago).
