Abe Abraham

Green Valley

Cannons are roaring down in the green valley
Smoke rising into a fog
Uniforms and horses are splattered with colors
Men howl at heaven like dogs

In the afternoon sun I stand breathing slowly
Musket is cold in my hands
We wait for the sword to point down the valley
And I try not to shake if I can

The front of the line is long like a railroad
Back about eighty men deep
Remembering their mothers and praying for salvation
And there’s nothing in this world they can keep

The late summer breeze is soft like a lady
Lovingly holding my face
When the deafening explosion from a cannon behind me
Drags my mind back to this place

We start down the hill as the orders are hollered
Raising our weapons to aim
When the smell of skin and cotton burnt by gunpowder
Just makes me want to be home again

A chorus of rifles like a thousand branches snapping
Sprays out a choir of led
And men of every color start falling like towers
And I dropped my weapon and fled

Swiftly I’m running through the bodies and the screaming
Splashing red mud on my pants
When through all the commotion a bullet found my body
And I try to keep moving but I can’t

Sounds are now fading down in the green valley
The wind is soft like a lamb
Tell mama when dying my last thoughts were of her
And tell papa I fought like a man