Monday, January 24, 2011


Northern Tennessee
December 1863
In early winter
With the campaigns
Slowly ending til spring
I walked near the river
Cold, with the low sun
Still warmed by the fact
That there was relative quiet
No battles, no attacks
I noticed how the reeds
Still were standing
After they’d died
Here, from the cold
Imagined if soldiers did the same
How that would end war forever
If the dead were never
Hidden from view
With their flesh left behind
And fled souls
And vacant eyes
So that we might not forget
The tragedies endured
The lives lost with regret
The things that are true
Flee, with the rage of war
Innocence dies
We hide our memories
With the graves
So that we might find reasons
To make wars
Again and again
The dead are gone
Their lives undone
Our scars of memories pass
Remembering the glow
Rather than the dim
Of lives too broken to last