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   Gutted
[ On the burning of the British embassy in Dublin, 2 March 1972,
three days after Bloody Sunday in Derry, 30 January 1972
]

Resounding across the island
The wrong of that Sunday in Derry.
Resonating down the decades
The justice that was denied.

Anger at innocent deaths
Found its vent in Merrion Square
A Georgian monument
In the empire’s second city.
A park edged by red-brick buildings
Townhouses for a leisured class.
A piece of Britain on Irish soil.

The crowds swelling and shoving
Shouted at the lifeless building.
Black flags were held and black coffins
Taken up the ushering steps
And laid down at the door.

The roof collapsed and
Flames billowed into
The cold night air.
The glass of windows
Burst out of frames
Falling to the ground as
Splinters among the coffins.