By My Brother’s Grave

You knew him at all?   

- I hardly did, 

Despite our years together.

We thought we would last forever,

Tearing across Parliament Hill on illicit wheels,

Fishing with our own cheese sandwiches; 

Or, hiding in the branches,

Looking for imaginary enemies,

Ignoring the real one here,

Until the dark cloud of fear, 

Drove apart our paths. 

My British officer from his Irish gunman. 

Let the shots ring out over the coffin.