I am wheat
I cry, I cry
Again
You leave your dead
At my feet
Oh why, oh why

At Gettysburg
We cried
Again, again
They rose and died
Below our stalks
They lie, they lie

From Stalingrad
To Leningrad
One million dead, one million dead
The Panzers came
Wheat fields aflame
They burned, they burned

And once again
You leave your dead
Ukraine, Ukraine
Oh, Putin's shame
The innocent lie
In wheat, in wheat.

r ~ 7/19/14

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work --
I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?

I am the grass.
Let me work.

I see the spectral shadows of those heroes from the past
No marshal music playing as the ghostly legions pass
Long dead but not forgotten those who shed their blood so long ago
Those men who shouldered arms, marched down that final road
On the spectral legions march with their heads held high,
no faltering steps from those heroes of the past

I gaze upon my comrades, at the places where they lay
A young man lies beside me with blood upon his face
“I can’t see you friend” he says “because my wound has left me blind
But I beg you to write the words I say and send them to my wife”

“My darling I have left you but I leave you with these words
I love you now and for ever, hold our children close for me
It should never have ended in this way
In a fight for liberty

I am not alone as I depart this life
Many friends lie with me, here on every side
I know not what we fought for or why we had to die
I hope we did not die in vain but I know not the reason why

A young man writes these words for me but I cannot see his face
He will tell you darling in my death there was no disgrace
With my comrades I fought bravely but we never had a chance
We stood and faced the enemy without a backward glance

I can hardly speak the words, blood has filled my mouth
My new friend here will bury me facing to the south
I am scared my darling I did not want to go
I must leave you soon for a place I do not know”

I wrote the words for that young man with the his blood upon my hands
For I’m the one who killed him as he made his last stand
Did I hate him? No for he was my countryman
We fought because a civil war had split our once united land

Yes I killed him dearest sister in the cruel and ****** fight
I would rather it had been me because you are his wife
Brother fighting brother, father fighting son
Has our god deserted us, has the evil won

This fight between the north and south, between the blue and grey
Will god ever forgive me for what I did this day
I will bury him facing south as he asked for it to be
I hope that when it is my time they’ll do the same for me.

Steady lads
You're the farmer
You're the scythe
Sharp like a knife
They're the wheat
Stalks in the wind
Steady boys
They come again
Time to reap.

r ~ 4/17/14

O, Traveller
They were glorious
Our boys in gray
Tho the blue carry this day
We shan't forget
No, never.

O, Traveller
Did you see them march
To beating drum
To smoke and fire
Our boys in gray
We shan't forget
No, never.

O, Traveller
This rain and mud
Virginia awaits in sorrow
The day is gray
For our boys
We shan't forget
No, never.

r ~ 5/26/14

Four score and seventy one years ago,
fifty thousand men, in blue and gray
divided, became one, in red united
to consecrate the ground where we
now stand.  From the Shenandoah
Valley, and the Potomac banks they
marched, and fell at Cemetery Hill,
Little Round Top, and Devil's Den.

But on this day, they rise to give
meaning to their sacrifice; they leave
behind their sabers and their musket
rifles, their cannon silent, their battle
done; they rise in peace at Gettysburg,
they rise at dawn with the morning sun.