We humans like our symbols. It allows us to make the complicated simple.
An icon conjures up more than just an image.
It’s bad enough that we have done this with flags and rainbows, but leave the flowers out of it.
Poppies are just poppies.
Lovely and tall with nodding buds
and fancy fringe petals
and shaker-top seed pods.
Let them be just poppies;
Not a source of opium or the cause of an addiction.
Not the crop of desperate farmers in a war-torn land far away,
Not a field of lost souls from a foreign war long ago,
Or a magical cause of sleep sent by a wicked witch.
They are just poppies.