- Vol. 05
- Chapter 03
Tones of Blue
It's my father's eyes despite his Irish Catholicism, mother's were warm brown hugs of earth.
It was never our tricolour of Glasgow Celtic, prayers and mass, it was their Union Jack and Glasgow Rangers.
It wasn't our primary, that was purple, it was our secondary; v-necks, ties and bullies, fenians never, protestants forever.
It was the Himalayan poppies that brought cheer to our first country garden and the soundtrack for your infidelity and our separation.
Of course it's the sky, but why? Sometimes it's the sea, but not the Clyde, it's grey like smoke.