What in the World Happened to Me?
Once upon a time,
long, long ago
I used to think ANZAC Day
was a glorification of war,
and I wouldn’t celebrate that.
(Even though my Dad did
when I was little, lifting me
onto his shoulders to watch
his mates march past
in their uniforms and medals.
He himself didn’t march –
never went away to war
with his crook leg, but instead
to camp in Central Australia,
training to repel invasion.)
Something changed in me
over the decades. I’m glad
we didn’t get invaded
(though Darwin got bombed)
and that the Allies saved our world.
I don’t rise early for the Dawn Service,
but I do watch the march on TV
(pre-COVID anyway) – the veterans
or their proud young descendants –
with gratitude, and a few tears.
And when an American friend
wished me, online, this year,
a festive ‘Happy Anzac Day!’
I was polite, but I wanted to say,
‘Mate, it’s a SOLEMN occasion.’
Prompt #26 at Poetic Asides for April 2021 is ' — world' and make that your title.
Image: Public Domain.
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