A Wednesday Morning in November

Another day, I checked the date:
It was the 11th. 
Acknowledging the significance
Without giving it much thought
I headed out, late that morning.

It was mild as I walked
Along footpaths, crossed roads.  Streets.
Past shops, mostly closed in an attempt
To slow the pandemic.

I strolled along by the river
Then turned down a passageway
Coming out in the Market Square,
Intending to buy a coffee.

For a second or two I was surprised
At the many people standing around
In near silence.
Sombrely.  Then I guessed.

And checked the time:
Four minutes to eleven.
I hadn’t thought to be there that day
And so hadn't intended to make the effort.

But was glad I was present
And stopped with the hushed people:
Some with poppies.  Some wearing masks.
Binyon was being quoted.
We, growing older, stood in reverence.

Others going about their day, it seemed,
Also stopped
Feeling perhaps that they- we-
Ought to have remembered,

But for me, wondering too
Whether those who died in two wars
For us to be free
Would have imagined 2020 as it is.

There lasted a silence.
The old buildings the same through Revolutions,
The century old Cross of Sacrifice too.
Birds perched on roofs.
Shops shut.

Then we heard the words
“God Almighty”.
Trumpets: The Last Post-
Then the chimes of the church
Rang out, marking 11 o' clock.

MDC.  Copyright.