I will wear something green,
I will think about leprechauns,
This year, in particular,
I will reflect on Irish ancestors.
With perhaps an accusation of horse theft,
With perhaps a spouse left behind,
With only money for steerage,
With broken hearts,
With only dreams,
Without plans, destinations, or degrees.
I will think of those who
Faced hunger, hardships and discrimination,
Took jobs from real-at-the-time Americans,
(who btw took land and livelihoods from Native Americans)
Practiced a strange-to-America religion
Saw signs everywhere telling Irish not to apply.
I will feel blue-gray
The color of sadness
Reflecting on history repeating
Thinking of language and cultural differences
A now fast-past, highly-documented world
Where it is hard, perhaps impossible, to hide
As you try to create a new life, in a new world
On this holiday.
"When the Know-Nothings get in control,............"
On this holiday celebrating immigrants.
5 comments:
Yes to all of this. It's about so much more than green beer, naughty leprechauns, and clovers. Beautiful and important poem, Anita.
Yes, let's give thanks for ALL of the immigrants throughout the long history of the U.S., and never forget the indigenous people whose land was stolen, and hope that the law holds strong as the courts fight for the return of the Venezuelans who were wrongly deported.
Beautiful poem. Our country is a country of immigrants. So many of us have forgotten that. arjeha
Oh, wow, Anita, what a great thing to think about on this day. Thank you for speaking up. And the "Know-Nothings" are back. Grrr...
And here we are. That last line: here. we. are. Reminds me of Ralph McGill's book The Fleas Come With The Dog. It would be interesting to see what would happen if in deporting people the things they made possible here went with them. Like highways and crop fields and so much more. We truly haven't counted the blessings or the costs.
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