Even after
this Civil War
I want somehow
to tell you:
That things will be okay;
that you will not be let down,
that you can continue to trust.
I hope you will fall softly
into the hands
of Abraham Lincoln;
large as the sky itself;
and that he may lift you
far above this battlefield
so you can see
all the world is a mix
of dying soldiers;
and that someone
stitches uniforms
with the kindest
of concerns; may we
look our best
on our way to die;
may we at least
have our beauty
amidst the fires
and burning horses.
I hope you will fall softly
into the hands
of Abraham Lincoln;
and you can see;
both sides of this
are only as strong
as bones, and flesh
and the need
to rid ourselves
of isolation.
Even so far after
this Civil War
I want, somehow,
to tell you.
-e.
