Strange poppies
On the banking
By an empty road
Bright weeds
Stop, to watch
Rich red
Majestic bloodied
Battered in the breeze
Lean in
Flushed with a hundred images
Thousands of memories
Falsely remembered
Might I pick one?
But then
How sad it would be
To see it die
Better they are left here
Striking
A red fire
To spread
This means something
Strange poppies
Here
To remember
Unstuck Monsters 