In Flanders Fields by John McCrae
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
On holiday last year we came across this wonderful poem on the side of a building. The gates were padlocked shut, so I had to take the picture at an angle.
This year is a very different ANZAC Day for us. We are in Lockdown, so no official commemorations, although many (like our tireless PM) got up at 6 am & stood silently in their driveways. I marked it at 8.30 am. It is a beautiful day & I could hear a single drum, beating a lonely tattoo.
To respect Lockdown, (& social distancing) I went to our War Memorial Monument yesterday. It was a perfect day & I was standing in the olive grove that has been planted behind The Monument.
I had a walk in our silent town. A poppy from the museum where I normally volunteer a couple of times a month.
In front of someone’s home.
This is an expanded picture. Not very good & it isn’t clear that this is rosemary in the planters.
And on another fence. This guy would probably laugh to be called an artist, but he has done a number of metal sculptures in our town.
Supposedly, the original version of this moving poem had “grow” rather than “blow” for the poppies. I think I prefer this, but either way this rondeau written for a fallen friend is extremely moving. McCrae died of pneumonia near the end of the war.Lest we forget.