July 1-3, 1863, American Civil War
Three days under clear skies in the lush courses of
Shenandoah Valley, General Lee’s forces
struck Northern lands cross the Susquehanna River.
Over ten roads they marched and rode to deliver
a crushing blow to General Meade’s Union jacks
surrounding Gettysburg and prepared for attacks.
Forests and farmlands, ruined rolling hills and pastures,
rocked with cannon fire, mortars, muskets, and fractures.
Wild animals fled, farm animals under yoke,
birds in the sky receded into distant smoke.
North against South, toddler nation blood-divided,
brothers against brothers, families blindsided.
Gettysburg —the bloodiest battle of the war
death from mortars, cannonballs, acres of horror
wounded, casualties, lying on a grassy crypt.
Afterward medics walked the battlefield and tripped
on numerous muskets unfired, atop shoulders.
Just four of every hundred died because soldiers
saw men facing them, didn’t shoot, just paused the strife.
Humanity hesitates to kill when faced with life.
Linda (Stormyfalls) lives in a world where ERA is the 28th amendment to the Constitution, Black Lives Matter, democracy thrives, climate change is taken seriously, and walls are built only to decorate not divide.