In the heat of mid-August, my young daughter flittered behind,
as I solemnly walked along the wooded path.
Coming to a solitary stone marker, I stopped.
'So, this is where it happened.....'
'What, daddy? '
'Listen, can you hear them? ! Alabama rebels running up to take this hill from us boys from Maine! '
'Quick, there is a stick - it is your rifle....Pick it up....We must hold this hill at all cost! '
'Get ready! Charge! '
Scanning the trees for the unseen enemy, clutching her rifle, tentative steps at first, then picking up speed...
'Stop! That's enough now.... how do you feel my brave little soldier? '
'I'm scared, Dad....'
'.....I know... I'm sorry...'
'Come sweetie, let's skip back to the car together.'
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Lesson by Stuart Kaler )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Not enough, hasmukh amathalal
- Diamond Gems, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Lost and Found, Anthony Di'anno
- reaching for your hand so i don't get lost, Mandolyn ...
- Share to walk, hasmukh amathalal
- Okay okay I said, gajanan mishra
- Friends are there, hasmukh amathalal
- In deep, hasmukh amathalal
- Truth is supreme, gajanan mishra
- Photograph from September 11, Wislawa Szymborska