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 Float with Favorite Folks
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These early summer trips back home to Michigan for a week (or even two)
have been a tradition now for twenty-something years. Ten years ago, Danny
Reed of...
6 days ago


