Whispers from the Myth Teller

If you can take a quiet moment at 11 am today, please try to. I'll be tuning in to the CBC coverage of Rememberance Day and sit quietly with all other Canadians.

I'm depressed that so many others don't do this. When I lived in Ottawa, we had the 11th off, so I always headed down to the ceremonies.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders' fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.