I cut my finger this morning
watched the drops red, red drip
I imagined the small scarlet mounds
of parachutes reddening on Flanders Fields

on many shirt fronts and coat lapels
these poppies bloom today
the crowds gawp at the screaming sky
as fireworks follow the sun going down

slowly the hordes full of candy floss
patiently surge across the acrid ground
as many, so many we have never met
nor will we remember them

morning sees the park strewn
with mangled detritus, flattened chips
time still ticks on as we grow old
we forget or never knew the brave

Sue Banister