The sky is drooling gray on this day to celebrate the dead.
Lying a bed the extra hours, grateful.
Sacrificial spring is cold.
Still there is clamor on the street
Anticipating the parade,
Honoring and remembering
Remembering enforced duty with little option.
No fan of waste am I.
The dying always die.
We watch through black and white to verdant color
Appling polemic practice
To steady motives against attrition
The parade passes and remembering,
Wonder silently, the question;
Does the world need a parent?