Willie you were just a child
when you walked across that no man’s land
July first 1916,
Herbie your brother by your side
bayonets fixed but
what the fuck were you doing there?
why weren’t you
scything grass or walking cattle to the market
why weren’t you linking a girl’s arm along
why weren’t you
downing stout in a Newry bar
why
weren’t you shouting ‘this is not my war’
why didn’t I
take you in my arms before you died
and say
‘grandda, now I know
what demons drove you to the drink’