A century ago Canada’s best, each one imbued with youthful zest, marched away on a desperate quest, which pinned this poppy on my chest.
Huddling together in sodden trenches; hands aching from impulsive fist clenches; inhaling death’s unforgettable stenches: Canadians I never met, to whom I owe a debt, lest l forget.
Lloyd Atkins
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