Red poppies down town
on lamp-posts, poles and railings,
on fences, trees and monument ;
Library, Redhouse and Civic Centre,
days before and days after.
So many everywhere, the television
flooded by paper, ceramic, real blooms
and the background screen to 'X Factor',
every presenter, guest, interviewer
(one white hidden under red on ' Question Time' ).
A silence, remembrance and then move on.
The next bloody invasion and the next one.
If only there were a different poem
on each billboard, hoarding, fly-posted even :
Owen, Hedd Wyn, Rosenberg, Jones, Sassoon,
those who knew the suffering and sang
for their comrades, against cacophony of bombs.
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