Continuing with my developing manuscript, here’s the next poem, poem 10. Lt. Everly attempts to settle into camp.
Camp
June 1, 1861
Tents stretch across green fields –
row upon row. Their white canvas
wings bend toward earth –
a host of praying angels.
Boys caress their new guns
as if they coddle the silk
of a young lady’s skin,
each out to fills his lungs
with honor and valor
and return home
a king of war.
Small fires burn, dot the camp.
Here they gather, sharing rations –
not fit for dogs. Yet, each boy
believes he swallows
an earned spoil of battle.
Will these children pound
their hearts after they sip
the bitter ale of blood?
Related articles
- Wife – Poem 8 (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)
- Blue Suit – Poem 9: Everly Joins the Cause (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)
- Charge, Sang a Boy – Poem 7 (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)




































Pingback: General’s Tent – Poem 11 | Lint In My Pocket – Artillery On The Ridge