Brian Taliano
US Civil War Final Project
This is a poem I have written from the perspective of a soldier who has just fought in the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House. The night he is remembering is that of May 12th, 1864, the bloodiest day of the battle, which took place from May 8th through May 21st. Spotsylvania was the second major battle (and the costliest) of Grant’s Overland Campaign. There were over 32,000 casualties in total. The battle’s outcome was essentially inconclusive due to the Union’s high casualty rate and their failure to break through the Confederate line.
My brother died at the Mule Shoe
and I didn’t see him fall.
Twisted faces
screams that stabbed the night air, bullets
whistling past to embed themselves
deep within gnarled tree trunks
deep within flesh.
Shot after shot I fired
my home never leaving my mind
crouching by the fence
as my rifle felled another enemy
the dignity of war, of everything
my honor I would never surrender
and I went to reload.
He had been just some yards behind
I had seen his smile as he scored his last hit
smiling through even this
that smile filled me with a fire
a burning energy
but he must have moved from his position
I could not spot him
so I turned the other way.
My eyes settled on two men
as if time had stopped, they were hoisting
another body over the parapet
exhausted, careless
the body muddy, bloody
and smiling.
And then he was gone, and the wall
swallowed him whole, my brother
was gone and somewhere in me the
flames trembled
and I saw the dead around me
vividly, they were forgotten, did each have
a soul, as I knew my brother did?
And as I stood unable to pull my trigger
the skies opened up and it began to rain
it was raining and the heavens were broken
and everyone was a ghost, dancing a tango
with death in the wet dirt, point blank
desperate, mad, in shreds
and what of the glamour they promised?
Long ran the sanguine river, taking
my brother with it, and it was
raining
it was raining.
It was raining last night when we stopped our march
and today the sky is clear, but
my fire has not rekindled.
All we are is bruised, beaten
no one knows who won
and I cannot stop thinking of, wishing
for my home.
Dignity is a value, honor a prize
power only blinding
freedom merely a question
but loss is forever.
And I sit here, and the drum is not playing
but I hear it in my mind
and I touch my brother’s hand till I wake
from my dream, and now
I clean my rifle again.
His smile unobtainable, the end unreachable
leaving hell is impossible
and the sun is warm on my skin
but inside me it will
never stop raining.
The Cambridge School of Weston is a progressive high school for day and boarding students in grades 9–12 and PG. CSW's mission is to provide a progressive education that emphasizes deep learning, meaningful relationships, and a dynamic program that inspires students to discover who they are and what their contribution is to their school, their community and the world.