Mark J. Wood
Missed a bit out there: my great-great-grandmother was the one who waved. (That took the flow out of the joke so re-write it to suit your wit and mood.)

Mark.
2007-05-01

Mark J. Wood
Some of my ancestors left Ireland - even the ones who returned never went home. When she waved goodbye to her sons she came with them.

Some sent money. One sent money to his parents for years after they had died; their neighbour took in the letters and kept the money. The parents were illiterate so he never had any word from them and didn't expect it.

He found out when another from the same town came over and offered his condolences: happy emigration.

You see how your poem has brought back someone else's memories for me.

Mark.
2007-05-01

kath
... and I read this poem as being part of the story told in "Jimmy" and it makes me feel the sadness and love I sense in "Mary" ... it is a very good imagery and I belive I am close to these persons ... and yet still only looking in through the window ...

very well done
best wishes
katherine
2007-04-30