Bake-a-yarn: Appeasement

Thursday 24 March 2016

A child caught up in sectarian violence.
We see their faces every day in newsreels.
Here is one such.
This is Northern Ireland 1964.

APPEASEMENT

I am ten

and there is blood on my hands

and the faces around me, even the jeering ones, are silent

and there is blood on my coat

and I can taste it in my mouth - I have licked wounds before

and know what blood tastes like: not sweet or salty, but sticky - if that is a taste

and the sea of faces parts

and I am watching them envy me

and it has been coming for weeks : arm- linked gangs, us and them,

and each claiming the footpath for themselves

but this time he broke rank and went for my throat before the chain broke

and I see my mother’s face

and black out

and when I awake my father is talking

and there is shame in his voice

and the boy’s father is here too

and the boy, his face not so close now, holds a box of chocolates in his hands

and he offers them stiffly, his body held back as if he is afraid of it

and my hand reaches out

and I say thank you.

For that is what they want now.

First published in Speaking for Sceine for the Kenmare Poetry Festival 2014

Sceine was the wife of Amergin, one of the mythological founders of the Irish people. See links below.

Bake-a-yarn