Poetic Interlude LXXXIII

What happens this week, Gentle Reader? Armistice day happens this week, Gentle Reader. Or Veteran’s Day, if you’re in America, I suppose. Which I am. But there are already several days set up to honor martial valor and sacrifice and so on, and I think it’s important, specifically, to honor the end of the War to End All Wars.

I mean, it didn’t, obviously, but it was a turning point. The whole world was weary, a generation had been lost, and everyone collectively vowed never to do it again. We should honor that. Despite… what happened afterward.

Flanders

In Flanders Fields
John McCrae

 

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
 
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
 
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
 
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About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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