A veteran placed a trumpet against his lips -
We'd marched through the streets of the seaside town -
Pipers had played their brawny pipes -
Kilts had swung -
I'd mimed when we'd had to sing the National Anthem -
Yet whilst I held the wreath, invisible fingers had clasped my wrist -
The Last Post sounded -
Someone said they will not grow old as we grow old -
A bitter wind blew in from the sea -
16.00
Sunday 13 May 2017
Swanage
Dorset
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