Acres and acres
of open ground
on which to run
across where
ghosts follow me
to unheard
bugle calls.
The back and forth
of an old battle
on the north side
of Sharpsburg.
The park roads
thick enough
with tourists
I know the burger stand
will do good
business today.
And think of
all the pointed steel
once gleaming
in the sun
when the morning mist broke
with the distant flashes
of Stuart’s guns
on Nicodemus Heights.
But now that I reach
the Middlekauf farm
I turn back
and lope toward
home and the historic quiet
of Shepherdstown.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 