POSTCARD FROM A CIVIL WAR REENACTMENT

Had breakfast at the Sweet Shop. A placard at the entrance: Arms and legs where thrown out the second story window. A wagon waited below to receive them. Last night, I slept at the college. The hallways were lined with empty cots. As was the library, City Hall, the Church of the Redeemer, even the cemetery was lined with cots. I thought there would be formations, marching in step, uniforms, and loud but harmless explosions. I saw an old man wandering through an alley who looked like Walt Whitman. Sometimes he would crouch down close to the ground. He seemed to be speaking to someone. 5:30 a.m., mist low over the fields. I had expected reveille but it was silent. Except for one mockingbird that was imitating the songs of different birds, hoping one would answer, revealing the location of its nest.