Poem: Sixteen, by John Saunders

Their names are buried in street signs
and railway stations.
Rune stones of the executed.

For others the fighting never ended
as they turned on themselves,
fought to avenge when colours blurred.
Fact and fiction shrouded in gun smoke.

And now resistance is plotted on email,
demonstrated in street marches.
They stand to sing the anthem,
commemorate and protest with likes
and shares, hashtags against austerity,
retweet the dark detail of our past.

They elbow to the front of the mourning party,
their vision blinded by the centenary light
that ricochets off a murmuring hearse.

John Saunders has published two collections, After the Accident (Lapwing, 2010) and Chance (New Binary Press, 2013 )