155 Years a Battlefield

Cannons and rifles sound
shots fired!
Blasts reach targets
soldiers sweaty in wool for winter
on sweltering hot summer days
in the rolling green hills of Pennsylvania
blood stains the grass
nurses curse the hate
doctors hack off limbs
to save the man
no protection from disease
bite the belt
the man dies anyway
another falls into his place
they drop
no end in sight
the heat,
my God,
the heat,
and death,
my God,
the death…

a stray civilian killed
while baking bread

Still the flag waves on high
the site of a most memorable speech
the battlefields glorified
blood removed
statues and plaques in place
ghost tours and souvenir shops galore
a painting
a memory
a Christmas tree ornament
a magnet for the fridge

a stray civilian killed
while baking bread

I dare you to take a picture.

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