Drycicles

Aligned, ten thousand tin soldiers, no move, no

Sound, no sigh,

No quarrel. Tonight the invasion’s begun!

Let us pray:

Prepare the flowers of the field, redden the poppies,

Train your women to cry widow, train your men to lay

Bare

In front of our heroes.

No words can describe what the human stain

Colors

Two more hours we lay

On this field day. Tomorrow we’ll yell

Victorious

No more poppy fields, how beautiful is the chanting cascade of the

Widows.

The willows.