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Union Solider
March 19, 2014
Lighting my pipe with a quick match,
I traced the shadows leaning on the yellow tinted tent,
Their hats propped forward giving the illusion of sleep.
That might have been peaceful had the circumstances been not what they were,
My head peaked from behind the slit in the tents center,
My eyes shifting to the left to see whom I might see,
The war has taken with it the lives of many,
Although it may be to abolish slavery,
Bitterly I feel no longer a slave to the soil but a slave to the head of a rifle.
© Katherine W., Tok, AK
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