Paul F. McCann

ZONED

I made my way back through the gunfire
as the riot came to a close.
I walked through the concrete landscape
the CS gas had got up my nose.
The wind fanned the flames of the bonfire,
as the smoke clung thick to the sky.
God knows it’s a hard station these days;
I waved as the peace train went by.
Zoned for a while in a bloodbath,
as the people of Belfast kept heart:
Graffiti on a gable wall said: Peace Zone
My God how great thou art.