Stalled
Seven tall
Into the set of sun
Stopped
Then dropped
This war my course has run
No one knows
These words I shout
No one understands
Always doubt
My words about
And no one gives a damn
So let me set it straight
Nothing clever, wait
Let me hesitate
Simply a celebration
Rows of poppies
In a wild garden
About eight; in the evening
A setting sun
In these first few days of summer
A photograph
You smile, we laugh
The light catches all the crinkles
We’ve sprinkled magic dust
On our generations rust
In time to mingle, to be singularly free