Marshall

I am forty
Something
Driving into
Marshall Texas
The old Civil War
Capital of Missouri
Which occurs to me
In a flash as I approach
The county seat which looks
Like a state capitol in miniature
The why being the Confederacy’s
Lasting imprint on the South and
On Texas inseparable from the
Minds of all its citizens even
Those unconscious of why
A county seat looks out
Of place yet a certain
Independent attitude
Remains seen in the
Look in the eye or
A tone of voice
Which says
Do not
Mess
With me
Either as
A freed slave
Or a soldier in
Gray both on the
Line of emotion just
Beneath the surface
Both unable to forgive
Or backdown from their
Heritage so the old court
House is now a museum of
Past events seen from many
Angles and I respect both views
As my family stalked each other in
The Civil War as soldiers blue and
Gray at Shiloh Vicksburg trailing
Grant and Sherman’s marches
To Atlanta and on an agony
Experience hard to forget
As the violence takes a
Long time to lessen
Father to son an
Anger less each
Generation as
I look at the
Old Court
House in
Marshall
I grit my
Teeth
Grip
The
Wheel
Emotions
Of fighting
Not yet gone
But in exile here
In Marshall Texas.