A school excursion to
the recycling centre today -
among the plastic torsos
and gentle stench of
a million used milk bottles,
and the processed tree-fibres -
those flat-topped mountains of
once crisp cardboard.
It's Remembrance Day and here
among yesterday's rubbish,
the children stand
observing a minute's silence
as the bugle sounds the Last Post
in haunting solitude. All those
young heads bowed and imagining
the historic blood-red petals
of a trampled poppy,
buried in the shadowed corners
and citrus light of a
far-off French field.
In these fertile minds,
perhaps winter crouches
in bleak and blurring tones -
easy to mistake foreboding
for a ghostly German tank
or a press of light
through closed lids
for a machine gun's
glinting snout.
But open your eyes now,
children. The minute
for remembering has passed.
Here, at the Recycling Hub
we attempt to rescue
the discarded past
and recycle it
for further usefulness.
I LOVE this line “
It’s Remembrance Day and here
among yesterday’s rubbish,
the children stand
observing a minute’s silence”. And the way you’d described the scene. There’s something weird and eerie and off about this poem in a good way
I LOVE this line “
It’s Remembrance Day and here
among yesterday’s rubbish,
the children stand
observing a minute’s silence”. And the way you’d described the scene. There’s something weird and eerie and off about this poem in a good way
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Also like this “
But open your eyes now,
children. The minute
for remembering has passed.”
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Ha ha. It’s just a 1KB memory. 😉
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thank you so much! That means a lot. I really wasn’t sure how well it was working but wanted to post it today.
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The juxtaposition of the Remembrance Day observance during a recycling center trip and those last lines – so powerful!
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Thank you! 🙂
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