~ Delta Poetry Review ~

The Vicksburg Murals

On one side: the flood protection,
On the flip side of the floodwalls: scenic murals,
Painted on concrete segments,
Each painting telling a story,
Each segment lined up and framed
Like paintings in a gallery always open.

Willie Dixon plays the Blues in the BB Club,
Holt Collier and others look for a bear
For Teddy Roosevelt near Onward, Mississippi,
And he will not shoot it.

Thirsty farmers nourished by Coca-Cola
Bottled by the Biedenharns.
River floods and river traffic;
The Illinois monument fresh from the Park.

And the magnificent explosion of the Sultana,
Whose last stop was Vicksburg before it exploded
Near Memphis, with thousands lost
Days after the Civil War ended.

The past has been located,
Living on murals
On the floodwalls protecting Vicksburg.

One Soggy Day in the Vicksburg National Military Park

Like soggy boots that crush oak leaves,
Something, someone, staples down leathery magnolias,
Smashes pecans, flows a stream’s course,
Zigzags downhill, defying time,
Hunting for long-lost survivors.

Perhaps a reconnaissance is missed:
A soldier loses to the fatigue of years.

Maybe now a soldier finds an elusive camp,
But fails to gauge heaven’s elusive tactical coordinates.

Potentially the soldier filters, like cannon smoke,
Into the condensation of time.

Or behind a greening bust, the soldier balances
At roadside, above a marble proclamation.

Or he commits himself to
A field that is now an asphalt road.

Alternatively, a heavy, water-soaked battlefield
Shifts its water burden, near blue and red lines,
Statistics forged in steel, above the battle line.