In Flanders Fields John McCrae, 1915. |
| 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. |
A Day That Was Maybe a Little Too Nice
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I was on the road by 5:00 am heading north to meet up with Dave Fason to
explore one of his local lakes outside Greensboro for carp nosing around on
the fl...
8 hours ago


