TDOR MMXXIV
“Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death”
– John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale
The low November fog moves like a ghost,
The veil is thin this time of year they say;
The voices of the dead upon the wind
Tell stories of their future and our past.
Two days, two faces of the year,
See us, and stop killing us, we ask.
Our memorial is not of pomp and state,
But the bitter shard of grief within our hearts.
And I have walked hand in hand with death,
Seen the skull beneath this face I wear,
Entered into silence and the dark
To better know and tend this fragile flame.
In pride and power may they rest,
Now it is time for us to fight like hell
For those who still remain, and for the hope
That those to come will know the taste of spring.
I light my candle, say my prayers,
And somewhere, something old responds.