Bridge Over Tranquil Waters

Strolling along Antietam creek,
I encountered two women
Civil War re-enactors

one grey, one blue,
both with Sharps muskets;
they fiddled with their muskets,
giggling.

I did not acknowledge them
as I passed.

I heard one say,
“He didn’t want anything
to do with us! Haha!”

& she was right.

I strolled leisurely over
the Lower Bridge—
back & forth from one
side to the other without effort.

This, the self-same bridge
Burnside’d finally needed
so many lives to take—
& even then,
was not allowed
to keep.

I thought about that
as I strolled back &
forth across the
bridge, listening
to the giggling of women
like the
            chirping
                        of birds.

about the author
Bradley K Meyer writes from Dayton, Ohio. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in decomP, DASH, Rougarou, Rust + Moth, After the Pause & others. He is the author of a chapbook, Hotel Room (Vostok East Press, 2013). He edits Pouch Magazine, which lives at www.pouchmag.com.

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