The circle patiently stands
the wind freely passing by
the rain leaving its intermittent mark
like so many tears

The panels faithfully show
through day and night
summer and winter
although paint's flaking

The obelisk
in the village street
with a dozen or so names
who went, never to return

The tower on the hill
nigh upon two dozen
plaques with a thousand
names and many more

Two dozen their number
Memorials by two dozen thousands
remembering those who did not

The hills remain
to remember
The wind on the moors
will be there to remember

The sea washing
the shoreline
echoes the voices of
those who were lost

Their memory remains
From what they left
Our future
for abandoning their today

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