Dawn drawn guns shot Peter Black
for running from the Somme it seems,
life lost in a day far away from the Tay,
his first cradle.
The border between France and Belgium at
La Crèche was his last.
‘What’s Belgium got to do with it?’
asked a child somewhere.
‘He can’t be etched in stone’, answered a committee.
‘It’s said he ran away twice.’
‘We don’t want etched in metal’ said veterans
from the silver river that bore him.
‘We’ll blow it up recruiting sergeants sirs.
We’ve got the men, you taught the means,
and we don’t want your shilling any more.’
Peter Black went on.