Poppies and new beggings...

Returning to the woods where she once spebt many hours memories flooded through her. Can she remeber the good times and set aside the bad and heartbreak to continue on with her life?


1. Old Memories.

The misted woodlands were silent. The only noise was my footsteps, each waking a little more of the sleepy forest. To my left was a haven of poppies; each and everyone a deep red making the otherwise black and white picture vibrant. I hadn't returned here for a while. Too many memories were created, many happy but a few devastating. Here surrounded by the old, twisted trees that looked like giant walking canes, the engulfing mist that seemed to wrap its arms around me like a mothers arms, the stream that reflected the little light making it seem silver, breakable ~ like my feelings. Poppies one after the other each representing a loved one lost, blood, toil and battle.
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