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POEM: Belfast Kid

Belfast Kid

Role-playing games in the basement
next to the log cabin’s barrel stove,
the one that seemed like a good idea
but would make the house a sauna,
so it sat there unused and cold.
What must Stephen have thought,
thousands of miles from his colonized home,
in a house in a town named after the colonized?
Maybe that never crossed his mind.
We sure never thought about it.
All we could offer was a couple month’s respite
from the sound of bombs exploding
and the fear of the sound of bombs exploding.
A day trip to Niagara Falls.
A weekend in D.C.
Then it was pack your bags and go home.
I don’t think we ever heard from him again.
Eventually the violence ended, in its way.
Eventually it ended.

/ / /

8 December 2024
Charlottesville VA

Published in My poems Poetry

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