The Bells of St Patrick Dublin

Dublin
Sunday afternoon
Churches, museums, Trinity College
Tourists, thousands of tourists traipse in throngs
Off their beaten path
Scores of deserted streets, no tourists
A homeless man asleep
On the sidewalk covered by shadows
Just the two of us on Walk Street__
I stroll across the Liffey River
Up the hill to St Patrick Cathedral
The hour 3pm
A long carillion
Twelve bells from Lord Guinness
The Church of Ireland
That of the Kings and Queens
The twelve bells peal of ten plus a flat 4th
On and on
To the glory of the English God
On and on they ring
Not a prayer on my lips__
Yet I cross myself
To my memory of my Nana
Anna Walsh of Mayo__
1910
A young woman of 14
Left Ireland
Crossing the water
A hoorible trip
She never traveled again
And set up house and raise a family
Four daughters
With a trolleyman from the Aran Isles
Peter Nolan
In Jamaica Plains not far from the Forest Hills station__
A strong woman
The grip of her hand
Me four
Nana in her 50s
1952
Falmouth Foresides Maine
Gaelic
She sang to us in Gaelic
Now it's calle Irish
Now 2026
I lay outside on the Cathedral lawn
I lay on the grass
In the shadow of the shadow of the Cathedral spire
Safe from the sun
Safe from the English god
Eyes shut
I see
My hand gripping Nana's hand
Her grip as always strong and loving
A Sunday fternoon in Dublin__