Poppies

Beautiful poppies were growing beside the road.

In this garden I obtain every product of nature in due season; in the spring it abounds with roses, lilies, hyacinths, and violets of the deepest bloom; in the summer with poppies, pears, and apples of every kind; and now in autumn, with grapes, figs, pomegranates and green myrtles.

Being apprehensive lest he might commit more mischief and break my plants, I sprang forward to seize him, but the little rogue skipt lightly from me, sometimes gliding between the rose-trees, and sometimes hiding himself like a young partridge under the poppies.

The red poppies are like tiny flames in the countryside.

Many people wear poppies on Remembrance Day.

Poppies grow in abundance in Kabylia.

Beautiful poppies were growing along the road.

Before the building of school grounds, an area near my home on Lulu Island was mounds of dirt. There was an impromptu bike track. Wild red poppies grew. I would fantasize that amongst the mounds were Star Wars' Jawas.

On the 22nd of March of 2022, I went to the pizzeria twice, in the morning and in the afternoon. I went to the cafe to have Strawberry Coconut Drink in the crowded afternoon. Sitting at different, but proximate tables, were Don, a white man with glasses, and Chen, a stocky Chinese. They were talking. Don was about the same age group as my younger brother Paolo; both went to Rideau Elementary School, whilst I went to Errington Elementary School. I remembered that the Rideau school field was just mounds of dirt with an impromptu mountain bike circulating racetrack. There were red poppies growing. I imagined Star Wars' Jawas lurking in the mounds. It was the late 1970s.

On the field margin beside the stubble, poppies bobbed gently in the breeze.