My Mother

How she must have missed
the green hills of Ireland.
Walking along hard grey
streets in Brooklyn.

Remembering scent of
grassy meadows hurrying
along ten long blocks, to
climb filthy subway steps.

Missing those sweet soft pastures,
on her way home from work
buying day old bread, searching for
dented cans and items on sale.

Her marriage failed and her health
gone. Her smiling days were over.
No one seemed to care.
The unlucky are often alone.

How she must have longed
for songs around the fireplace.
Another Irish colleen torn
from that emerald island.

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About Joan McNerney

Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Warriors with Wings, Blueline, and Halcyon Days. Four Bright Hills Press Anthologies, several Poppy Road Review Journals, and numerous Kind of A Hurricane Press Publications have accepted her work. Her latest title is Having Lunch with the Sky and she has four Best of the Net nominations.

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