|
The red of poppies Around the white of stone: Blood and death’s pallor Under the lead of a November sky. Those who defended stand beside Those who had them defend. The drooping flags, symbols of their unity, Repress the question, whether They were called to defend Freedom or others’ privileges. The pipes and the bugle Hold the present back And in a moment of memory Recall the noise of war And the silence of death. Closer then and now the ties between Those who fell and those who lived on. Turning away from the unanswered question They did what was demanded. Sacrifice in an unknown country Made for another’s homeland. |
