Lament

Something that wrote itself:

Lament
(for Rifleman Paul Donnachie, aged 18, killed today in Iraq, and for his mother)

What was it for

All those nights walking the floor

You, tiny, crying in my arms,
Humming to quiet you

Teach you there was help

Comfort

Care

In this world.

What was it for

All those days washing your wounds

Skinned knees, bruised elbows, loose teeth

Talking softly to calm you

Teach you there was help

Comfort

Care

In this world

What was it for

All those days of earnest conversation

Teaching you to be honest

To help

To comfort

To care

For this world

What was it for

It wasn’t honesty that sent you to Iraq

It wasn’t care that will bring you home in a bag

What was it for

What was it all for?