I lay on the beaches of Carolina
surrounded by foreign tongues.
I ate bacon and beans in a soldiers camp
but I did not get close to you. America

I had passed through deserts on a two ox wagon.
amongst the Irish and the Dutch.
I climbed to the top of Lookout Mountain.
but I could not see you. America.

I read reports about thousand soldiers dead
and was passed by blue and grey clad men,
where your fragile borders are.
But I could not touch you. America..

I thought of the mothers and what they would fear.
and of wives and children wanting men near.
Perhaps they could have felt you,
where I could not feel you. America.

Now the wind blows cold at night
through the streets of Philadelphia.
The night falls down in its density.
And I could not sense you. America.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>