The Scottish Tingle
Pappap would get a wistful look in his eyes
when he’d talk about Scotland, as if the blood
of his Scottish ancestors tingled in his veins.
He’d attend concerts in Idlewild, a local park,
where they wore tartans and played bagpipes.
He’d close his eyes as if he remembered
the loughs, castles and stone shielings
though he’d never been there. And now
I’m thinking about going to Scotland. Must be
Pappap’s Scottish blood tingling through my veins.
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