Civil War Song
       

snows still we are deceived
pile up the drunkenness

captains with fog
in their eyes grabbers
of bushes and women
drowned in their laughter

hidden in the folds of bagpipes
the bitter strata of profound events

crackle little lights
into the damp indolence
of fleeting fiefdoms
under the cover of words

nothing left but a leap wake the visionaries
to jump the flame over the breastwork of rye

snows snows cover us
night wind noon wind
stones always and again
knives of the hail
death runs quickly youth is lighter
than the earth of those we carry within us

so now the beloved
come begging the silence
the flesh of lips
stuck to the lips of gravestones

i'm the one who has written this poem
in the solitude of my room
while in those for whom i weep
death is sweet there they abide

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Copyright © 2018 Heather Green All rights reserved
from Noontimes Won
Octopus Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission