My Dad is
breaking my heart
playing
“Liverpool Lou”
on a little itty bitty
harmonica.
I no longer know
what age I am
travelling down
to Cork on a train.
Just a magical
time of being!
My Dad is
breaking my heart
with the beauty of his playing
the beauty
of his being.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-must-my-poor-heart-keep-following-you-for-my-brother-brian/
