My dad used to march with his ex-servicemen's regiment
each Remembrance Sunday.
I suddenly thought of it when I let the hens out this morning
and felt the cold frosty air on my face.
Childhood memories of the feel of that same frost against his cheek
as I kissed my daddy, and patted his medals
and felt proud
all those years ago.
It seems like he died yesterday;
that awful black day is etched forever in my soul,
and yet it could've been 100 years back
because it's put away,
firmly put away in the place I don't care to go.
all those people
all those memories
and today, one more that I hadn't expected