Memorial Day
This day, in America, we remember those who died in battle:
MEMORIAL DAY — IN LIME DEPOSITS
In lime deposits, memories live on, as torrential flesh dies.
Cries in sunshine and rain, flower up bloody sacrifice.
The hopeful blooms of freedom’s caustic cost —
The poppy seeds would last, yet nowhere ne’er suffice.
On her proud lapel, dripping with measured tears.
Upon her adorned wrist the pressure of passion petals.
The nettles that fell the fighters of shivering yesteryear.
Still jewels shine, from the home, where the quivers settle.
How thick and plush, a ruddy head rush, the beautiful field
Of poppies that spread, endlessly abroad in Eden’s bower.
Reflective hourglass sands of the past, present and future.
Repopulation of the sullen earth with faithful ruddy flowers.
The crimson crib of a lover’s garden, salted with personal tears,
Whilst life traverses, without morse code, to one’s brief generation.
War but a scourge on man’s back — the epitome of Calvary’s cross.
A long line of souls, lifted upon an unselfish tree, of love’s veneration.
5/28/2018
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