I walk out today
with the hands of my father
Calluses and concrete
They’ve held the weight of moneymen.
Where the dust settled
I find solace where boys once stood
I’m reminded war doesn’t live in bombs
but starts in our homes with nothing
more than words.
I left with hunger
A young boy with too little to lose
But I soon learned of loss
And I returned with my father’s
Written by Mia Coney as part of Poetry as Commemoration workshops led by Mark Granier in North Wicklow Educate Together Secondary School, Bray in September 2023.