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  • overgrown garden with vined archway

    Gettysburg

    Carrie Hicks (date unknown)



    Lying on our backs in grass where my ancestors fought,
    the field a witness to gallons of spilled blood
    over a way of life that couldn’t be sustained.

    We drank the dark German beer of your ancestors,
    whose guttural tongue you never learned.
    We owned our youth, and I left
    secure in us.

    Did your forefathers foresee the Berlin Wall;
    the concrete split?
    Did mine know a Civil War was imminent;
    a divided country?
    History inevitably circles back.

    Yesterday I lost you,
    to the smell of summer grass and yeast,
    to a letter that never came,
    to quantum physics and astronomy,
    to a void within
    I didn’t know was for sale.

    At the spot of our last meeting,
    I stood in a once bloody field
    and looked to the stars that stole you.
    I didn’t bother to wish on them.