poppies

amemory of the places where the dogs of war would play

before him stretched a field of blood red poppies
he knew that to pass amongst those cadmium blooms would be to
have their life juice on his feet
that he would tread heavy on the souls of those that lay
forever young beneath the clay,
yet, he deigned to move
taking measured steps amongst these flowers of youth
unsung as they were,
for their names are no longer spoken
even as they fell we forgot them;
and the reason why it was in this place

the now wraiths once ran,
laughing and unafraid of their destiny
as youth will, for as heroes they had no fear;
like time, all that is lost in memory
as are all mistakes of men,
it was best just to bury them
get on with life,
for that it is writ,  is best left to the living.