Remembering

Remembrance Day

A soft grey day                                                                     

on the cusp of winter chill.                                                

Fallen leaves, fragments underfoot -                                          

crushed frail wings of Speckled Wood;              

and shy moorhens dipping red shields  

backpedal against the charging stream.                                     

The glowing bonfire’s heaving heart

aims smoking tracers to the ashen sky.

Bitter drops of hawthorne’s vivid blood

flood the hedgerows; a heron waits -                              

and by the church scarlet poppies                                              

lie entrenched with pale crosses.                                    

From Hyde Park cannon boom

                         fracturing the still air.

© Sue Burley

 Published in 'Reach Poetry',
November, 2015; issue 105

Check out more of our resident poet's work on this link (also on blog page left hand side)

www.suefburley.blogspot.co.uk