A Touch of Irish

Blame it on the Irish
An urge to see
New places
New things
Not new people
People are never new
Just different
Somewhere else beckons
When I go
Another place will give
No peace
Want to see waves crash on another coast
Glaciers inch along unhurried
Grape fields stretch
Sand singes air with heat & temper
The Irish won’t go away
Regardless of its roots
Won’t leave
Pushes
Teases
Coaxes
One day
I’ll listen.

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