Black Irish

I am not sure where you came from,
unless you were reborn, by some magic,
in the mountain air,
but perhaps this was always in you,
or waiting to emerge,
this immeasurable kindness,
this unwavering confidence,
this je ne sais quoi.
Perhaps the ancients have caught up with you,
breathing the secrets of their island living
into your dreams,
so they could surface in your waking.
Perhaps you were always a man,
because I can’t quite remember
when you stopped being a boy.

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