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my belfast bomber

by john g. hall

I found a singer who knew my song
who loved my lyrics with her slender voice
But my fingers played too fast to follow,
squeezed too hard on loves hair trigger, back fired
at close quarters, my innocence a hidden gunner.
A sound in the soul that ricochets continuous
with the crack in the night, the powder flash
and the perfume of cordite, my last post played
on the torn bodhran of my sweet Belfast bomber.


copyright © 2003
John G. Hall



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