Remembering [a poem to mark November 11th]

As she remembered,
Her thoughts turned
To what might have been.
A minute of silent contemplation
Mourning a lost husband,
And the children they’d not had,
The grandchildren whose laughter
Would never bring her home to life,
And the memories never made.

The last post sounded.
The minute ended for many,
But for her,
Life was that minute repeated,
Again and again.

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