They’re on our jackets for a minute – until they’re not. Familiar and red –the poppies are. Every November for the first dozen days, at supermarkets and on street corners, the sellers of these little plastic emblems peddle these poppies in an effort so that we may recall. In remembrance of warriors that fought for us, who ultimately died for us or who were maimed– for us.
We buy them and wear them and would forget they’re even there were it not for the fact that they frequently or almost always fall off. The poppies being held precariously in place for a strategic time lapse only before they subsequently show us their real purpose– and fall off for us to retrieve them. The pin behind the flower holds all the power. Sharp and poignant causing discomfort and pain when coming into contact with unsuspecting integers locating the lost poppies in deep coat pockets or behind cell phones and mp3 players at the bottom of our purses. Ouchie!
Although, by contrast, strikingly forgiving is the minute pinprick — still its there to remind us of pain and how the soldiers went through so much of it so we wouldn’t have to.
Brilliant that they may do that– these little poppies … fall for us to get the point and live on.