Thought for the Day
11th November 2023
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.
— John McCrae
This is one of the many poems I memorized in my younger days. Back when this was still America, children were encouraged to read (and memorize) significant poetry (“The Highwayman”, “The Raven”, “Ulysses”, “Recessional”, etc.). Worrying about pronouns and ‘climate change’ doesn’t leave a lot of bandwidth for anything else, unfortunately.