And lost souls, too We mustn’t forget them Sun marches across the sky Leaves behind another day Poppies waving gently In red dotted field Poppy red, dead red Black soil, sweet soil The wagon rolls on Boots reversed in stirrups Taps and gun salute Widow hugs the flag Somewhere, sometime, Someone remembers them The silver drop cleanses Refreshes them to mind Memory returns an image … Continue reading Thank The Living Souls