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    Into the festival grounds they come from islands and cities and towns, lighting the bright nights of June with music. Hundreds of thousands unfurl forbidden songs. In the margins, Russian tanks still, except on each, a pair of darting eyes.

    A motor-bike roars. A young Estonian rides in holding high the blue and black and white. As if on cue, a thousand flags unfurl, fluttering away decades of dust. A sky of arms and flags and rising voices, holding their country till morning’s light.

    from ‘The Singing Revolution’ in Maisie and The Black Cat Band
    E A Gleeson