I discovered poet Carol Ann Duffy today and was struck by her power.
After I no longer speak they break our fingers
to salvage my wedding ring. Rebecca Rachel Ruth
Aaron Emmanuel David, stars on all our brows
beneath the gaze of men with guns. Mourn for the
upright as statues, brave. You would not look at me.
You waited for the bullet. Fell. I say Remember.
Remember these appalling days which make the world
for ever bad. One saw I was alive. Loosened
his belt. My bowels opened in a ragged gape of fear.
Between the gap of corpses I could see a child.
The soldiers laughed. Only a matter of days separate
this from acts of torture now. They shot her in the eye.
How would you prepare to die, on a perfect April
with young men gossiping and smoking by the graves?
My bare feet felt the earth and urine trickled
down my legs until I heard the click. Not yet. A trick.
After immense suffering someone takes tea on the lawn.
After the terrible moans a boy washes his uniform.
After the history lesson children run to their toys the
turns in its sleep the spades shovel soil Sara Ezra…
Sister, if seas part us, do you not consider me?
Tell them I sang the ancient psalms at dusk 30
Inside the wire and strong men wept. Turn thee
unto me with mercy, for I am desolate and lost.
Duffy, Carol Ann. “Shooting Stars.” Selected Poems. London: Penguin, 1999.