Up On Poppy Hill

• Taylor Clayton, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2018

Up On Poppy Hill where it all began
Down her ridges of ones who have passed
Down her curves where one still lasts
The blood red flowers that fed on hope
The ice-cold soil that devoured the most
Her gentle grass that held us close
Her reassuring roots that meant the most
Where gun shot fired
Where hate backfired

So here we stand holding one close
To remember the day which won the most
For freedom, for hope, for the ones we loved the most
For the suffering, for the pain, for the endless reminder in our brain
I wasn’t there, I wasn’t hurting
But I can imagine the endless pain that reminded them again and again
To this day we recall, the fight, the war.