Summer solstice is coming. Do ghosts wait for the dark of night, no matter how late? Or do they appear as usual? This original poem that I wrote (please share the blog link with your friends as the poem is copyrighted) is about one Civil War battlefield's nightly haunt on the upcoming solstice.
Haunting Summer Solstice Battle
By
Pamela K. Kinney
Only 19% visible;
the solstice moon
looks down
on the battlefield.
Silence,
except for crickets
in the humid night.
From both sides
comes pale, wisps of
shades on horseback
and many on foot.
The noise of battle erupting.
Out of sync,
no reality
Blue against gray,
Union against Confederate,
cannons booming and guns blasting.
The ectoplasmic war began late,
All due to the
longest day
of the year
Dawn,
the cock crows
and phantoms
vanish with the sun.
Until the next night…
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