It is said the sap of the white poppy makes you high

  but not as high as the propaganda of the red poppy.

In the dark side streets of a city just go and buy

  the other one in a well-lit high street, a copy.

but far more deadly on the human mind, for all ages

  is the acrylic flower that records the rivers of blood, the flesh hills,

torn from the mothers of sons, while war wages,

  as corner shop fights corner shop, and in arable land it fills

in those who didn’t have a choice.

  The white crosses of a thousand fields in neat drills

where death, tidier than life, is an illusion, without our voice.

Wilson John Haire. 29th October, 2022.

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