I STROLL past the bird hedge
Leaves have turned gold and red
On November trees in Alexandra Park
But the War Memorial calls me today
For it is Armistice week.
I think of all the young soldiers who fell
In times of conflict, in times of such hell.
A lady sits on a bench engrossed in a book
And the sun has struggled free from clouds
So that the Channel is sparkling with silver
And my shadow follows me on the grass.
This is a perfect place to be alone with your thoughts
On this cool, refreshing November day
As leaves chase each other like kids at play.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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