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Visit to Antietam
| Open Poetry #35 |
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Visit to Antietam |
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Charles Junior Member
since 2002-10-01
Posts 12Hoechenschwand, Germany |
Visit to Antietam 1. Alone I walk into this quiet landscape from the east, up to a knoll to look out upon hordes of dark color gathered in terrible rituals mid fire and smoke that darken the sun-- I hear sounds now, the rhythmic thud of cannon from distant corners and from the hills a muffled rumbling of drums. From behind, couriers gallop past me straightway into throngs up to where ruffled flags sway, to those mounted high with swords drawn, about to unleash their flexing lines to collide with columns coming on. I watch them shift and fan then clash as distant volleys crackle in long orange ribbons where smoke is rising-- then, like healed limbs, broken lines rejoin, smaller now but whole, to thrust once more into spiraling bursts of yellowy orange. Is that a cornfield on the distant plain not far from where the spire stands? I see stalks moving like men advancing and falling back in wild infernal whirling, hear savage yells ripping through space, while as I watch, that field of green is reaped by frenzied swathings turns brown now, then grayish, is slashed and shredded, then ravaged in geysers of fire. I see you, man in blue, your back to me-- in haste your lines heaving forward like waves, cresting and curling to splash in smoky spume onto a road that cuts the fields in two-- alas, facing you I see four fixed columns of reddish gold bursting as one, halting your forward drive-- there where dark mounds are rising. And far off to my left a long snakelike movement bloating at a bridge behind which the hills are streaming with fire as if hell's crucible were spurting out a thousand pores directing its flow of sparkling orange toward that crossing, while on this side clotting masses keep swelling until one small dark artery, giving way to pressure, breaks over into that brimming inferno to wind its way forward, slowly, as if protected by some wondrous wall. 2. From what vision am I awakening? These are but fields, hills. There a church, a bridge. But listen to the silence-- silence speaking of loss of homage, of gratitude. Silence hovering over sacred soil, a canopy spread over rituals once performed on these fields: our sacrifice, our oblation, our holocaust that made us whole. Forbid all levity here! Bar all distraction! Ban every cloaked entrepreneur! Even marble disturbs. There is no enactment no fitting into frames. Silence alone befits this hallowed place-- As does the hidden violet that blooms in spring for you who left your life here that September seventeen eighteen hundred and sixty-two, brothers mine, from New Hampshire, Wisconsin and Maine. As does the windhover standing perfectly still on the breeze, head high, breast thrown forward, emblem of valor, image of yours, brothers mine, from Texas and Carolina and Rhode Island. As does the lark climbing aloft on eager wings mornings in June to sing of gratitude to you, brothers mine, from Mississippi, Texas, and Tennessee. As does the lone tree on the slope standing there still, the áged veteran, presenting arms, now with effort, for you, brothers mine, from Arkansas, Pennsylvania and Ohio. As does the solitary girl walking slowly in the fields, her eyes fixed on the ground her heart on you, brothers mine, from Louisiana, Alabama and Georgia. As does the water in the stream winding through this landscape, a watery emblem, a banner unfurled, Holocaust inscribed thereon, or Antietam, place of your sacrifice, and ours, brothers mine, from New York, Virginia and Vermont. 3. As I turn now to leave mighty towers of white clouds rise mid rumblings of distant thunder off to the west beyond these silent fields. On parting from this landscape the pace quickens, there is no laming. Led unawares to this temple of silence, I have been awakened. This memory, implanted, will wax-- from this day forward it will transform every doing of mine to fit into my changed world. from: Poetry of Charles L. Cingolani  |
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| © Copyright 2005 Charles - All Rights Reserved | |||
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DavePage Member Elite
since 2003-12-21
Posts 2917 |
Excellent. Dave |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
walking there and in Gettysburg...sometimes it's very eerie...and comforting at the same time M |
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