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We live in a time of anniversary commemorations. I don't think we are thinking hard enough about what these events actually mean.

A Stroll Among War Graves, St Peter's-in-Thanet

Screen_shot_2017-12-05_at_08.50.24by Patrick Howse02 Jul 2015

Twelve Portland stones
Parade with one of marble.
Knee-high daisies
Chirp with grasshoppers

As speckled butterflies,
Chased by birdsong,
Dart between stems
And feast on sun-drunk flowers.

Dates don't match battles:
These men died slowly,
Of far-away wounds,
Sundered from comrades,

Pitied but never understood.
Deeply planted in eloquent earth,
Twelve are rough and June-warm,
One is smooth and cool.