MOMENT IN FLANDERS FIELDS

He sits upon the floor in the open door of an ambulance,
reflecting upon war’s death, crosses “row on row.”
Larks sung above though faintly heard among,
blasts and booms of guns not far.
Sitting in reflection writing the thoughts and sights,
glancing occasionally at his friend’s grave and poppies nearby.
Sergeant Major stood waiting, with mail from the homeland,
while Lieutenant Colonel continued jotting, glancing at the grave.
Mail courier read the paper, words that mourn a friend,
amazed, that the current scene was painted by the words.
Somber moments pass, John McCrae crumples the paper,
tosses the hurt, mourning of a friend, aside onto the road.
Later retrieved by the Sergeant Major, crumpled memory,
inadvertently saved for posterity, poem of remembrance.
World War One, the “Great War” that failed to end all wars,
gave us the healing words... “In Flanders Fields”.

©Copyright November 9, 2007 by Roger W Hancock

Inspired by The Story of John McCrae’s ‘In Flanders Fields’
©Copyright November 2007 by Omar Bainto