
PAPER POPPIES 6-11-2006 As Remembrance Day approaches The Stirrer's resident poet Brendan Hawthorne wonders when we'll remember to stop sending young men and women to their deaths of foreign soil. Paper Poppies The grip is tight yet rested and a steel pin rings out in bugle call clarity summoning one more push before final acts fade behind the eyes And the journey home can truly begin returning to a place beyond the concepts of borders and convenient boundary demarcations A place of shared thoughts without divided rule where liberation and freedom are rights and not distant ideals Tins are shaken in the rhythm of charity and coins drop one by one into pools of sweet rain and bitter tears in acts of remembrance so that one day just one day future generations will not have to bury their children in the bloody battlefields and howling craters of inhumanity the place where legions of mute poppies stand resolute recording lives remembering names that scroll around like fallen petals in winter winds finding the shelter and compassion of yet another lapel to adorn and be recognised By Brendan Hawthorne copyright 2006
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©2006 The Stirrer