Armistice Wind - Edit2

[rollingbrianjones]

Really enjoyed this, and as in mild critique, I will largely leave my input as that. 
The revised version after the previous comments is definitely stronger than the initial version, though I didn't actually agree with many of the criticisms put down here (as you clearly didn't, as your revision ignored a quite a few of them!). 
Largely agree with the criticisms you ignored, and preferred the bits you changed, again, not useful, sorry, but my honest comments and I hope useful if it confirms what you have done so far.

That being said, I have thrown in a few thoughts below. My agreement with your taking into account or ignoring previous criticisms honestly was nearly exactly in line with your choices to change, or not. 
It reads really well to me, largely a suitable and strong choice of words, though some phrases or wording I think you can improve. This makes up my below thoughts, purely hoping to contribute towards the ideal that you make this poem even better without losing the "readability" and clear direction/communication to the reader that you've already achieved.

Armistice Wind


On Friday last, an hour before (in contrast to previous remark, I love this word order and how it reads with l2)
the sun reached its meridian (comma? Full stop? Unsure how you read this but visually on paper I felt some punc needed)
I listened indoors for the crash
of guns.

Policemen shoot them on this day
each year in my town’s graveyard, blanks
to symbolize an armistice ~
not peace. 
Can you do better than the opening statement/2 lines of this stanza? 
As mentioned, I do like this as is, but this part is pretty simple/lazy going compared to the rest? You throw strong language at the reader with crash of guns, then use a really weak word: "them" referring to guns that are already in the reader's mind/understanding. Anything more descriptive here and reader still knows you are talking about the aforementioned guns, but you can enforce the progression of the poem rather than stay stuck at the end of first stanza.
Maybe something more descriptive, more visual, more forceful: "Policemen fire, enforce this day" - "Policemen shoot to mark this day". 
Brief ill thought out examples, but sure you get my idea.   

At first no shots, just acorns falling
rattled like spent bullets on change a weak "like" with a stronger word?
hunched helmets as they struck my roof
and rolled.
Love the sounds and read-aloud quality- from "acorns falling" to rolled is great! So nice off the tongue, and on paper.
Though the chronology now raises questions- clear enough to me being honest, but to hit home to wider audience it's nice to be progressive rather than going back to "at first". 
I'm not sure if pushing the "policemen shoot them on this day" then to "at first no shots" is as progressive as you could be?

Between, wind stirred dead leaves and limbs
to rustle, flutter, softly thunder, Make these two lines smoother? Did like them as is, though, initially. Think you could make better, "to rustle" is odd use of language to me especially with"to" in L2. 
Not sure if you could link this together without losing your projected meaning. Cutting "dead" and changing "to" to "do" is better for me: Between, the wind stirred leaves and limbs // do rustle, flutter, softly thunder". Between is the only other word I'd consider in line with the rest of the poem. Potentially could personify the acorns...
warning ghost of distant drumfire should leaves and limbs mean pluralising ghost to ghosts? Which if taken into account might give you an opp for an adjective before waking or even actually a couple of words before, or a rhyme with thunder after?
waking.

Then louder, rushing past, that gale 
blew shrill, demanding pan-pipe notes ~
trench-whistles calling men to rise
and fall.
First two lines are awesome! Maybe look at the v.liberal use of tenses here? "Then" "rushing" "that" "blew" "demading" "calling""and fall". Not sure if a firmer grasp of this will help, or hinder. 


So Friday last I never heard
those guns proclaiming armistice ~
some wind had carried their reports "some" and "their" could be looked at.
away.

Hope something there helps. As mentioned,  I did enjoy the read.

On Friday last, an hour before
the sun reached its meridian
I waited indoors for the sound
of guns.

Policemen shoot them on this day
each year in my town’s graveyard, blanks
to symbolize an armistice ~
not peace.

I didn’t hear them, only acorns’
rattle like spent bullets on
hunched helmets as they struck my roof
and rolled.

Between, wind stirred dead leaves and limbs
to rustle, flutter, softly thunder,
warning ghost of distant drumfire
waking.

Then louder, rushing past, that breeze
blew high demanding pan-pipe notes ~
trench whistles calling men to rise
and fall.

So Friday last I never heard
those guns proclaiming armistice ~
some wind had carried their reports
away.

Metric  variations in S3&4 are intentional, but open to criticism.

Seasonal, from last month.

@Quixilated - Thanks for the excellent critique.  I've addressed each of your valuable criticisms in the edit.

BTW, for those unfamiliar with the term, "drumfire" is a real thing.  Before precision munitions, to reliably damage a target it was necessary to fire many rounds from many tubes as rapidly as possible for a period of time.  When frequency of shots and impacts reached that of a drumroll, "drumfire" resulted (also a point at which some men become insane from the sound).  When the sounds all merge together, a preferred term is "hurricane bombardment" which is conducive to shock and apathy...  from what I've read.

Edit1

Armistice Wind


On Friday last, an hour before
the sun reached its meridian
I listened indoors for the crash
of guns.

Policemen shoot them on this day
each year in my town’s graveyard, blanks
to symbolize an armistice ~
not peace.

At first no shots, just acorns falling
rattled like spent bullets on
hunched helmets as they struck my roof
and rolled.

Between, wind stirred dead leaves and limbs
to rustle, flutter, softly thunder,
warning ghost of distant drumfire
waking.

Then louder, rushing past, that gale
blew shrill, demanding pan-pipe notes ~
trench-whistles calling men to rise
and fall.

So Friday last I never heard
those guns proclaiming armistice ~
some wind had carried their reports
away.