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REMEMBRANCE
REMEMBRANCE
You poppies marched into my world
in 1946, I was then aged about four.
A morning leap from well-warmed bed
to count : today, how many more ?
Something so eternally ephemeral
grabbing my fleeting and childish attention ?
There were lots of other flowers
in the yard, never worthy of mention
Our blood-red poppies would pop to life,
then they’d equally suddenly die;
my unknowing recall an instinct,
perhaps to salute, as they flitted by ?
Was I grieving for the blood
insane wars had made to flow,
yearning for comrades to blossom again
this time with a real chance to grow ?
You poppies marched into my world
in 1946, when I was aged about four.
A morning leap from well-warmed bed
to count : today, how many more ?
Alan McAlpine Douglas
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