By Tish Davis
Concord Township, Ohio, USA
as blood seeps
from the soldiers’ ears
handmade bone dice
tumble out of crevices
in the hastily built stone wall
After touring the museum, I ride the escalator up and onto the battlefield. An attendant directs the crowd into the chaos silently motioning us to step in closer, to step down onto the dimly lit viewing platform that encircles Philippoteaux’s, Battle of Gettysburg.
I stand, by chance, near an exploding caisson. Wood bites from a splintered carriage carve jagged cuts deep in my skin; gunpowder dust—brushed hot and thick—swells my lungs. A wild eyed gelding— riderless, powerful legs in long strides—gallops madly through the cannonade; through the heavy, humid air; through the massive toll.
first published in Bright Stars, volume 5, Autumn 2014