A Poem for Franklin

[formerYank]

I've been having some trouble finding a poem for Franklin. There is a poem written in the 40s by a lady about Cleburne's death at Franklin, but that is all I could find that was so specific.

I don't know anyone on the board yet, but I thought I would send this out, and perhaps someone might enjoy it.

I hope y'all enjoy it.





we're almost home

cool springs' and franklin's office blocks
are lit up at night, waiting -

some time ago, troops marched close
and came so close to home

down winstead hill straight lines, flags and
banners, bayonets, hope

rabbits rush ahead into blue
lines steeled, awed, waiting

cool winter breeze moves flags, young men
dream of home, love, and death

night shadows move across franklin
so calm, grand, almost home

blue and gray in the night light fire
turn hot and cold and red

bullet, cannon, sword, screaming shouts
guns with lurid sharp flames

last and first prayers to God to
mother father somewhere

away far from franklin's red fields
where hare are slow, alive

at the works they die in straight lines
on the top adams' horse

is a monument, at the base
of the works blood is deep

behind the works children scream and
from their cellar see hell

hear it, smell it, are forever
shattered, wounded, haunted.

the dead lay for days on franklin's
winter fields almost home -

they lie in straight lines in franklin
red sticks for adams and cleburne

in cool springs there is little time
for old wars and dead heroes

morning is coming to franklin
lights low, almost home now

carnton is still, wind moves the trees
like flags on franklin's fields.