I am prey to the unyielding Sun
here in this open field
void of shade
holding precious pieces
untouched for 140 years
200 acres of Virginia farmland beneath my feet
where bullets flew
where strong men screamed
and the soil looked as if it had rained blood
death can come quickly or painfully slow

A soldier rips the Eagle breastplate from his chest
and throws it to the ground where I am standing
and here in the sweltering heat
of a calm June afternoon
I pull it from its resting place
no longer shining
140 years removed
from the failing heart
beneath it