This is for Remembrance Day, but it works just the same...

by Garnet Rogers

11:11

Ah the glorious few are all the fewer here
In the cold November Air
The crowd draws silent their collars raised
To the edges of the square
The children's choir sings "In Flander's Fields"
The band plays "Over There"
The old heroes still try to dress the line
As the chaplain leads the prayer

For the glorious few no longer stands so straight
As they did long years before
When they faced a hard and cruel fate
On a far and distant shore
Their tunics faded green and blue
Poor shelter from the cold
The memories made yet raw and new
At the calling of the roll

The heads are bowed in silence now
At the tolling of the hour
The first few falling flakes of snow
Drift gently on the flowers
All piled and stacked against the stones
Petals fluttering in the air
The eyes that stare down through the years
At the one no longer there

The taste of lost and wasted years
So bitter on the tongue
White breath in clouds in the autumn cold
Frail chests with medals hung
In battle ribbons red and gold
In the pale November sun
The hands and faces grown so old
While the heart stays ever young

For the glorious few are all the fewer here
The old soldiers form the square
The wind blows hard and shakes the leaves
And stirs the thin white hair
Of these fading brave and fragile souls
As the bugler plays "Last Post"
The snow falls thick and faster still
And turns them white as ghosts