In class today we read aloud
"In Flanders Fields"
eyes closed, imagining
bodies beneath poppies.
Every child in class
raised a hand to indicate
a family member
serving in the military.
My grandfather in Vietnam.
My Dad in Afghanistan.
They told me these things
with the delicate balance
of sorrow and patriotism, an image
in their minds of far off Belgium
"in Flanders fields
where poppies blow."
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