Bury this old Illinois farmer with respect. He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work in Illinois cornfields. Now he goes on a long sleep.
BATTLE FLAGS OF ILLINOIS – Poem by Harriet Monroe
Through the red dusk of war they flew, from Shiloh to the sea. Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew, withered the colors three, and crimson rains made sombre stains. For every flag a grave, yes, more, for each a score of graves. Crossed are the heroes’ hands that bore, no wind the furled folds waves. Sweet be their rest, by soft peace blest. Is there no end? What mighty host of spirits ranged for war, the signal of the Holy Ghost shall summon hence afar! Vast armies wait in solemn state. Where valor fights for freedom, there, till the last slave is free, these ragged flags will float in air, there will our heroes be. And shall we dare fight with them there?
SEVEN DEAD IN ILLINOIS – Poem by elysabeth faslund
But, read about the dinosaurs discovered in Africa? Read about that football player’s mouth getting him in trouble? How about those American Idols? Great moments in Nascar? Read all that today? But, seven dead in Illinois. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last. Slouches towards journalism to be born? Seven dead in Illinois.
https://www.amazon.com/Bruised-Paradise-Illinois-Poetry-Paperback/dp/0252065379
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