I used to find out through other people
I had fun going along for the ride
Never did I ask questions
until one day I did
I said: “Why am I doing this?”
It’s because he told me to
Now he doesn’t remember what he said
or he doesn’t want to recall it
“Why did you go to Ireland?” he asked.
“Because I wanted to,” I said.
Now I live in the Aran Island cottage writing my memoir
Of what it’s like as the daughter of Irish immigrants
Used to being treated with disdain — no rights — just do what you’re told.
“You can change the road you’re on,” said the song.
It was fun to ride that ferry from the island back to the mainland.
I laughed as I almost lost my glasses in the crashing waves.
I took them off and when I put them back on they were like new.
Emerging wet, I said: “I went to Ireland because I wanted to.”