*******hydra*******

[russellshih]

Leonadis Polk walked stately on the Kenesaw
Minutes before the cannon puffed white
Later musket blue was everywhere.
Then most men dropped to any log for shadow.
Again July berries came fat and dark,
True cumulus and August corn.

The whole is mostly bits.

Sherman stalked. Georgia got his cigar butts.
Out of the Chatachoochee a huge rump of dirty blue,
Reared to rend the gray back. Sherman smoked.
Johnston got his spade and God.
Dug. Prayed with his manuel.
Glittering spits bathed wheezing camps.
Sherman squatted.

Affinity bares not the wilder game.

Following Atlanta's flame Virginia burst with dogwood pink
And heavy balls slid smoothly through the warm peach skin.
Newest greens turned red and Gentle Lee bled deep.
Blue flanks and fore moved on. Sherman roared.

Bits are halves of dreams.

The horses stunk, the sweat, the blood,
The roost of carrion brood. Melon rind
And green broken pear lay.
Hoofs thudded in the dust, dug in the clay,
In mud, and broke the sky in puddle, in river,
in creek;
Fodder hung on jilted fence.

Dreams are quartered with memory.


Ron R.