I walk the sawgrass
adjacent to rounded
civil war earthworks
where a shore battery
endured a long bombardment
from the Union fleet
and with each slow step I take
I let my toes feel the soft ground
as if they can detect
shell casings embedded
in the sandy soil
and whether that ordnance
is expended
or remains live
after a century and a half.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 