Crossing A Civil War Battlefield: Union Soldier’s Poem

Battle winds ache
like the bones of track dogs
laying our rails of supply;
To Freedom.

Will she ever show?
And what might this be
but dreams
we don’t know.

‘Cept the ache calling.
Not forgiving the tired
engine; sound of hum.
Coming across from Atlanta;
the prairie dust and Indian
look-outs
go to tellin’ us,
“A new ‘morrow is waiting.”

We are not the forgotten souls.
The slaves; no less than
our Great Grandparents—
packed for a long-tiring road.
Towards ‘bacco fields, cotton
and fear.
We’ve seen those Pale Masters.
And not given to them a tear.

The sun is shining.
And we have ammo.
We got ammo,
Freedom’s Clock hasten that tick.
Shot
fired
from
muzzle load.
Our
hearts
to
Freedom’s
quick.

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