Into the unknown

Dean Askin

ASHES of soldiers!
As I muse, retrospective, murmuring a chant in thought,
Lo! The war resumes—again to my sense your shapes,
And again the advance of the armies.

Noiseless as mists and vapors,
From their graves in the trenches ascending,
From their cemeteries all through Virginia and Tennessee,
From every point of the compass, out of the countless unnamed graves,
In wafted clouds, in myriads large, or squads of twos or threes, or single ones, they come,
And silently gather round me.
- Walt Whitman

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