by Kevin Heaton
Levitating apparitions hover in misty
vapor, troubling the face of cypress
waters; suspended between rapture
and mortality, concealing wispy souls
of southern sons not yet at peace.
They seek their general, mounted
on a ghost stallion snorting humid
gunpowder haze, charging at victory;
his sword casting lunar reflections
into Yankee eyes. Troop remnants mark
cadence on gator, and snapper backs;
scouting front lines long ago fallen,
and battles; long since lost.
Kevin Heaton lives and writes in South Carolina. His latest chapbook, “Measured Days,” was recently released from Heavy Hands Ink Press, and his work has appeared in Foliate Oak, Elimae, Hanging Moss Journal, Pirene’s Fountain and many others. He is listed as a notable poet at KansasPoets.com. To read more of his work, click here.