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The Centenary of Remembrance
The Centenary of Remembrance
The ranks of sunflowers follow the contours
Of the vale, marching across to the ridge in
The distance. Roots reach down into the
Rich soil, feeding greedily on the memories
Beneath.
Yellow faces turn and follow the sun as it
Arcs across the sky, warming the earth;
Fat droning bees inspect the poppies that
Hide beneath the tall stems, red and black
Yet invisible.
Dark clouds build across the blue sky shielding
The sun; black shadows mute the bright colours,
Misty rain begins to hide the regimented lines
And the air becomes sombre, sounds deadened,
The world lifeless.
In the distance, faintly, as though in another
Time, the sad notes of parting sound; and
The misty image blurs into row on row,
Simple crosses, remembrance of the fallen.
And the black eyes of the poppies shed a tear.
Copyright ©
Edward Clapham
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