Off the cuff

I sit here on a darkened blue tinged gleam
and wonder about rememberance
about the women and men who led a brief stream
and had to do their final dance
they were patriotic
they were brave
they went and did their duty
and what their country told them
yet something lurks at the back of my mind
i do not belive that to it i have been blind
but more than likely unkind
I search through the mist riven clouds
the hollowed out memories in shrouds
and see an old wisen teacher who has just been woked
teacher turns around and says with blind eyes that are proud
"what have you learnt in your rememberance?"
"where did that minute take you?"
"or were you empty and silent?"
the teacher taps the cane on the stool in the corner
i sit down and put on my conical hat
yet still with black armband like a mourner
thinking, ' they are stiil going, they are still going, they are still going...'