Ireland's OWN Poetry and Prose

That day
—by Gardiner M. Weir

(Adapted from the French, a poem by Jacques Prevert)

Kathleen, do you remember
How it rained without stopping that day in Belfast.
You, walking along smiling, blooming with joy
Though wet through with rain.
Do you remember?
Ah, Kathleen,
What a complete mess this conflict is.
And what has become of you
Under this rain of iron, of fire, of steel, of blood?
Do you remember that day?
He who locked you lovingly in his arms.
Is he dead, disappeared or still lives on?