Poem for Monday

In Flanders Fields
By John McCrae

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.

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McCrae was a Canadian physician who served as a soldier in 1914 before transferring to the medical corps. He died of pneumonia on active duty in 1918. This poem was published in 1919.

I'm home from Pennsylvania, where we had a fairly quiet Sunday apart from everyone going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End ('s parents had not seen the first two, which we mistakenly believed they had, so hopefully it made enough sense...they seemed to enjoy it but that might be because they had grandchildren talking a mile a minute about what was great about it afterward). I think the movie improved for me the second time through, which was also true of the first two Pirates movies...I have trouble turning my brain off sometimes about nitpicky stuff, but these movies have been delightful mania all along and the performances are really outstanding, particularly Depp, Rush and Knightley whom I often think is underappreciated because she's so young and has been asked to carry films with some pretty weak screenplays.

Otherwise, we had brunch (pancakes, sausages and eggs) and dinner (barbecue) and played Yahtzee. Maximus the groundhog put in an early evening appearance, as did a few of the local rabbits and several local birds. We drove home in the early evening under slightly drizzly skies with occasional glimpses of sunset pink peeking out. Will save the wildlife pictures for later in the week; here are some of the horses from Hanover Shoe Farms on Saturday:


A week-old foal nursing in one of the barns.


This foal is being suckled by a nurse mare. Every year a couple of the mares lose their foals and a couple of the mares either have medical complications or just don't nurse well, so the babies are paired with surrogates.


This one-day-old colt is Daisy's Dragon, with his mother She's a Daisy (sire is Dragon Again, hence the colt's name).


This newborn is Caught the Bouquet, sired by Jate Lobell on Tarbeth Hanover.


I love how tall and gangly they look, though it is rather incredible to me that they fit inside the mares with those legs.

Monday is my father's birthday so I am off doing more family stuff. Have a good Memorial Day.