Sunday, May 27, 2007

Memorial Day 2007

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


Anonymous said...

Reminds me of many years ago when I was going to work around Memorial Day. A veteran was selling his poppies and asked one busy power woman if she wanted to buy one. She brushed him off and said that it had nothing to do with her! I remember thinking, the mere fact that she was alive and allowed to think that means it had absolutely everything to do with her.