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 doubtMy words about
And no one gives a damn
So let me set it straight
Nothing clever, wait
Pray let me hesitate
Simply a celebration
Rows of poppies
In a wild garden
About eight in the evening
A setting sun
In the first few days of summer
A photograph
You smile, we laugh
The light catches all our crinkles
We’ve sprinkled magic dust
On our generations rust
Just in time to mingle, single & free
This poem is from the pamphlet Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
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