Farewell, but not goodbye

On Friday night, in chill damp air,
we many gather, quiet in sadness,
then light pale flames and lay them where
the names of young men lost in madness
of war are marked in stone, forever.

The moment comes, the hour is tolled,
the gold starred flag slides gently down.
Across the sea, and fold by fold,
with courteous care, ours too comes down
and safely stored, but not forever.

31 January 2020.