It’s All Relative

I am green Irish on all sides of the family. For St. Patrick’s Day, I wrote this poem to honor my Irish relatives.

I was lucky to spend

much of my childhood

around my great grandparents,

grandparents, and great aunts and uncles.

A hard-working and

hard living bunch.

They drove Chryslers that had

automatic pilot settings

that guided them to

Thistledown and Northfield

horse races on weekends

and to the lottery store

and family card parties

after the workday.

I truly hit the lottery

with this group,

because they instilled

working-class values in me.

Anyone of my Irish relatives

no questions asked would

give you the shirt off their back.

Of course the garment

would have been soaked

in honest sweat,

tobacco aroma,

whiskey stains

and had an ace or two

pinned inside the sleeves.

Their lives were cut short

by the hard work they did

and their hard play

that eased the workday pains.

They’re all gone

but never for gotten.

Bless you all!

10 things you didn’t know about St. Patrick’s Day.

Black 47: “James Connolly”

“The Big Fellah”

Irish Descendents: “Come Out You Black and Tans”

I’m troubled, I’m dissatisfied. I’m Irish! ~ Marianne Moore

 

 

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