I plucked a tiny flower from the verge at the side of the lane.
It was so delicate.
It looked so lonely, sitting there all alone.
I stuck it under the edge of my collar.
Attached alongside my remembrance day poppy.
I heard the hooves of the the day bays horses's shoes clicking and clacking into the morning.
I witnessed the lone rider, hair in a net ******* under her hat.
I smelled the exceptional air.
No vehicles passed through this place.
So very quiet.
The field laid upon the left hand side looked so inviting.
Maybe I'd walk over it on my way back home.

Got back into my house.
Reviewed my flowers.
The bright red memorial.
It poppy triggered more emotion than the tiny roadside treat.
I pressed my little roadside flower in the middle of a poetry book.
Between the pages laced with guilt,  I stole it's life away.
My tiny paper poppy will fall into the bin.
Next year, a  beautiful fresh one will be reborn of pure love.
Acknowledge the soldiers, acknowledge the flowers.
(C) Livvi