The enemy forces never knew what to expect next;
gelignite about to burst, the soft depending fuchsia
or words passed on, the digitisation of memory.
It’s these last I wonder at; but for time,
we might once have been friends,
not knowing what ambush lies around the bend.
Reproduced with kind permission of the author. This poem was composed in Poetry as Commemoration workshops held at Bantry Literary Festival in July 2023. The workshops were led by writer Thomas McCarthy.