The People Remember


Poppies toss freely in the breeze; they don’t know
the earth-shuddering rumble of tanks.

The larks sing joyously overhead; they don’t know
the song-drowning roar of cannons.

Pigeons bob peacefully along city streets; they don’t know
the terror of bomb-ignited infernos.

The people know.  Every year they remember
in silence; they pray they’ll never hear
the thunder of bombers overhead,
the scream of anti-aircraft guns,
the tramp of military boots.
God help us.

Christine Goodnough


4 thoughts on “The People Remember

  1. Ever since I had become interested in taking pictures of flowers, I’ve come to appreciate poppies much more. They never come out as pretty in my photos as they look, so it’s still a challenge to capture ’em prettily. But you’ve been able to capture their prettyness in this poem!


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