My uncle died because someone threw a stone
Only seven he was 1919
Careless boys at careless games
Hit him on the head
A headache that didn’t go away
Soon after he was found dead
And grown men with their tanks and guns
Still are throwing stones
But now it’s called artillery
Still leads to broken bones
And we can do such damage
Without touching anyone
No close up deadly contact
I do not feel what I have done
The careless word the exploding gun
The tank and rocket shell
All can do their deadly work
And you can go to hell
I only care for my own play
The power it gives to me
It doesn’t really matter now
Just part of history
Brian Fahy
3 April 2022
+ The gospel story today suggests that a woman should be stoned. I imagined the scene. How easy it is to kill someone without much effort on your part. Just join a gang and pick up stones and aim for head and heart.
Erris Poetry 