I can see that
our cat
left his
footprints
in the shallow layer of
first snowfall on our deck
small
delicate
careful
and it is poppy day
and I imagine this snow
whitening the trenches in Flanders
like icing sugar
covering the dark horror of the night
and we wonder
now that winter’s blessing
curses us
what further horror awaits us
in this weary world heavy
with the millions of red and black
plastic poppies stuck into lapels of
privilege
even the snow remembers
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