I found the bones of my grandfather
deep beneath the Patterson street
and drank secrets like sweet wine
from the curve of his skull
I am full
of Family Legend
measuring miles on a map back to Ireland
and the land of Fire and Ice
and to the nomad road never tread upon twice
By gypsy feet that make dancing bells out of ankle fetters.
I feel better when I'm dancing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem