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He stands alone at the crossroads of the town
Upon his ageless forehead rests a pleading frown
Is he remembering past battles’ cruel rage?
As he stands motionless with intent gaze.

On his cold lips the glimmer of a smile
Entreats the passers by to stop a while
Yet so intent are they upon their way
They only see his silhouette of grey.

Good Friday traffic skims by his roadside stand
Eager hotel tourists enjoy the distant land
Of high mountains, tops covered in icy glaze
Shimmered by sunlight through fading grey mist haze.

His stone-deaf ears cannot hear lambs on the hill
Nor the red-breasted bird singing with easy trill
Nor the clang of the bell from the church nearby
Nor the whistle of the train on the bridge up high.

Why stands he here, stone cold with head bent low?
Amidst spring joy and busy human show
If he had a voice what would he say
From that solid throat and that tongue of grey?

Look at my face into my tearless eyes
And I will show you where the hero lies
Not one, but many, paid the awful price
All victims of war’s ‘bloody sacrifice’.

They lie beneath white shimmering blocks of stone
On many there’s a name, yet many unknown
In sunny fields of glowing poppies red
A nation’s hopes lie battered, lie bled.

No more the drone of bagpipes will they hear
No more the pounding sweat of unknown fear
Shall trickle down cold skin and lifeless brow
Like me on this monument, all motionless now.

No more the love maidens will they know
Love’s crushed, made silent, many years ago
Dreams ended, tears dropped, on the poppy wreaths of red
A tear for every memory and word left unsaid.

One day, a man, for whom the bell rings out today
Shall waken all their souls and take all war away
And no more fighting, no heartache, nor no pain
Shall take these soldiers from their homes again.

But hush, I must be silent, someone comes my way
I see an aged man, bent over, hair turned grey
He stoops to pick two faded wreaths from off the ground
And sets them on my base, upright without a sound.

I am not alone at the crossroads of the town
Upon my ageless forehead rests a pleading frown
Remember them, remember them, it’s all I ask
If you remember, I have fulfilled my task.

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