Manassas Battlefield

Photo by Bryan Faragher

a forest,
turning red and gold,
keeps solemn watch
in the chill October air

the last vestiges of daylight
begin their retreat from the
rolling field below

high above,
the agitated sky
swirls and tumbles in a
boiling mix of blue and gray

a  row of cannons,
perched on the high ground,
is melting into the dark.
the bronze barrels that once
belched point-blank horror
into a sea of humanity
are now mute
cold to the touch

beneath a green turf
the ground slumbers
but it is the sleep
of the traumatized
the fitful sleep
of the wounded

I  tread softly

on a hot summer day
a century and a half ago
this was the most violent
spot on the planet

under clouds of acrid smoke
young men in itchy wool
clutched their weapons
and marched into this
field… this
valley of death
in the opening act of a
national tragedy

I ponder…

the wound still festers
the divide still stands
the promise of a
‘new birth of freedom’
still a work in progress

I see figures in the distance

beyond the edge of grass
standing in the knee-high straw
an African-American bride and
groom are exchanging vows
she in white dress
he in black tux

the pastor pauses,
closes his book
and looks up
to nod and smile

the man and woman turn
to face one another
and falling into
each other’s arms
they embrace
and plant
a loving
kiss

01/17/16