I awoke when the earth first rumbled
I shivered when titanic beasts marched in all their glory
I danced when the olive-skinned boy dashed and
I cried when the deer he was chasing perished helplessly in my arms.

But nothing in my generally tranquil existence could prepare me
For what was about to ensue.
The sun glistened that morning above my head,
My blades of green shot up
Our country was in disarray but I rolled along
Oblivious to the horror far from my own hills.

As quickly as the bugle finished one of it’s signature bittersweet tunes
I underwent a significant metamorphosis.
Gone were the days when I was just an insignificant part of the Pennsylvania woods,
When travelers would pass around and maybe gawk at me
Like a child staring at a toy in the general shop window.
In those few hours my beauty was stripped naked and I was left to become
Something more then a magnificent feast for the eyes.

As strange men galloped and shouted cusses that would make a sailor cringe,
I realized that now was my moment to shine.
My worth would be put on a pedestal and
Inscribed in the mind of the historical timekeeper so
I whimpered when these men pranced around killing each other and
Slowly killing me.

My trees swayed slightly,
They were unwavering but definitely hid a hint of fear in
Their seemingly impermeable branches.
The once defiant grass flowed frightened for the conflict
Raging above it.

Red blood stained me
An irremovable mark of those fateful days.
Those days when I became more than just another beaut lining the American landscape
Those days when I became a symbol of the truly American conflict.


But soon those days, like my hills, rolled by and that was all she wrote
The rebels were hunted out of the North, their best army was routed, and
The charm of Robert E. Lee’s invincibility was broken
Or so I was told from whispers of mourners who descended upon me
As quickly as their loved ones did
But something else was broken on those days, too

My spirit.

It fluctuated from the carefree air to
An insane smell of fresh drawn blood, rotting bodies and alcohol tinted breath to
What it is now:
Somber.

There are no more running and jumping children on top of me.
No, those good vibrations have been replaced with
Gloomy corpses below me

Those men will never leave
Their sprits will remain forever
Attached to my rustling winds, now brown grass and stern rocks

They are forever their battlefield
And I am forever those soldiers