Saturday, April 21, 2018

.

ALONG A FEW IRISH   
BACK ROADS 

Roads, rocks, rain - 
glimpses of sunshine -
clouds  in muddy mirror potholes -
wind rushing to dry off the meadows
and push away the gray mist - 
so the tourists can see out the windows
of their big buses - and be nosy 
about who's who in these white washed thatched homes of their great, great grandparents - who had no food 
on their tables as they suffered 
the Great Famine and the troubles - but now these homes are the castle 
and the palace of their rich, mind you, 
rich distant DNA cousins - singing and dancing here on this green - green, - 
rain, rain - everyday island called Ireland.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2018

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