It's Armistice Day today. My grandmother died on this day, 92 years ago. My father was a boy; he came home from school, wearing a remembrance poppy in honour of the war dead in his lapel, and was gently told that his mother had passed away. For the rest of his long life, he would grow silent and withdrawn on 11th November. Drawing on his childhood memories - and on family photographs - I wrote this poem when I was in my early twenties: poetryinternational.com/en/p…