some could remember
but many could not
the road or the rock
or which one had sprung forth first.
the land had always been a mist here
had always let anyone sit for a spell
within its poppies and let them forget
soldiers, fathers, friends, enemies
could sit here among each other
melting days into milk white dreams

some could remember
but many could not
the road or the rock
or which way lead the way out.

#MastoPrompt #poem #poetry #MistsWeForgot