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Orange Song

Fleur Adcock

You with your orange hair

breaking into “The Sash”

as we pranced from supermarket to bar

that warm day in Coleraine.

And us shouting you down-

you with all your talk of truce

and not even Irish.

But we laughed as you whistled on;

I let my arm stay in yours.

Well, it was a good tune-

and weren’t you really a man of peace?


Were you? I look at my scars.

From Ambit magazine issue 65, 1976