Remembrance Sunday


Read by Jeanette Sterk

Remembrance Sunday

The dogs are here
We come each year to the War Memorial
Wearing our poppies.
“Their forebears served in the trenches”I say, several times, very loudly.
I do wish they’d stand still and look gallant
Instead of scrubbling for crumbs and chewing gum stuck to the pavement
They peer around hoping to spot a chum
They do love a crowd
But when the bugle sounds
We are silent
And I, a wartime child, remembering the Dead
Bend over their heads
To bury my grief in their dancing eyes.

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