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Poems by Michael K. Walker

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"New Christmas Snow"

A few militia men watch as we sleep on the ground

In the wind and the cold as we listen for sounds

Of Rebels afoot, or the clatter of hooves

Scared of a shadow if anything moves

But then, of all things that we secrectly fear

A shot in the distance, the enemies here

Muskets in hand we stand ready to fight

A light snow is falling as we rage in the night

The battle was ebbing, their numbers were small

With the enemy running the charges are called

Once to my feet I pull out my blade

I want to run on but my anger is stayed

For even the thought of death in the making

Has set me to wonder and my hands into shaking

Praying that I would not strike the blow

That would redden the falling of New Christmas Snow

I'd let my mind wander to those still at home

To the woman I love and the child in her womb

But my mem'ries quickly fade when a rebel rifle ball

Explodes upon my shoulder, I stumble and I fall

He sees I'm only wounded, he rushes for the kill

My pistol drawn I fire, he falls silent, and is still

Christmas day, year of our Lord, 1863

I killed more than a man today, I killed a part of me

I was reaching for his rifle, when clearly did I see

That the blood upon my hands today was my brothers', Bobby Lee

He was 10 when I last saw him, he'd be 18 now, and grown

But all I see in front of me is his blood upon the ground!

Blade in hand, like a maddened man, I run to meet the foe

Wanting that a rifle ball would quickly end my woe...

Next thing I know, I'm standing there, my brother at my side

We're walking as we contemplate our current fratricide

As the Heavans open wide...

by Michael K Walker ©1986

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