Memorial Day 2011-

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

  Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
      The larks, still bravely singing, fly
         Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
  We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
     Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
  To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high.
      If ye break faith with us who die
        We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
           In Flanders fields.

-John  McCrae