He tries to sell red apples in the street, His wornout khaki coat pulled tight To shield him from the wind. "No work," they told him at the shop. "No work." The words beat dull upon his brain. Short years ago they had not told him that When he had marched down this same street With others of his kind. They cheered him then with words of "Carry On," With flag, and drum, and song. But now the words have changed. The apples in his box are red, Red as the blood of comrades he had seen Grow limp before his eyes. Well—he must carry on. But people do not buy his apples in the street. A world that has forgotten Calvary Cannot remember Belleau Wood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONCERNING NECESSITY by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE COMING OF SNOW by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE STORY OF THE END OF THE STORY by JAMES GALVIN THE BLACK RUNNER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BOTANICAL GARDENS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |