The Butler Pennsylvania Poems


Sometimes in dreams I see
soldiers swarming over
the farms
outside our town
surging across fields
and through apple orchards
around farmhouses
and down to the creek
and the bridge
where the road comes into town.

And all the trees
laden with one hundred and
seventy years of peace
have turned pale,
and from their branches
narrow strips of white cloth
unfurl and flutter lazily,
while rabid soldiers
swish them aside
and break open the doors
to bark to those inside
to gather at the square
where they will be led off
to be shot
from behind
in orderly rows.

Next     Home


I think I see soldiers
swarming down
over the hillside
in among the clumps of bushes
and down along the brown
to converge and spread in waves
out over our town,
and all at once
the homes, laden with

one hundred and fifty

years of peace
fall together in puffs of smoke,
and skimpy white ribbons dangle
on naked trees
to flutter there limply
for no one
will see.
This file is not intended to be viewed directly using a web browser. To create a viewable file, use the Preview in Browser or Publish to Aabaco Web Hosting commands from within SiteBuilder.