**
There’s a family down here
which spends its summers in Ireland:
Ireland, the father’s birthright home.
The family leaves here every year
to spend its summers in Ireland:
Ireland, where green hills seem the loam.
By their touchdown afternoon,
all our hills have turned to dunes,
and the shadows house those feathered, gawking goons.
But it’s the shadows in his eye,
when he offers his reply:
“No, son, nowhere have I seen a bigger sky.”
**
