ANDERSONVILLE

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ANDERSONVILLE



The leaves fall down at Andersonville.

For over a hundred years they have moldered

Over graves where men lived and died

Of plague, starvation, and bloody flux.

Under the accumulations of seasons,

Footprints are hidden by moldering debris

Which cannot mask all odors of those who

Struggled to live and died surrounded by walls

That cannot obliterate the smells of Andersonville.

Confederates in gray upon the walls,

Yankees in tattered blue below them

Fighting not for their country's honor

But for the right to molder and decay and

Die at Andersonville.

Honeysuckle grows over those hallowed grounds

As woodbine creeps among the fallen leaves

Where birds flit among the ruins

And vie with squirrels for

Nuts and seed grown on grass

Which fed on those in blue

Who gave their lives at Andersonville.

((In memory of those Union soldiers who died in the Confederate prison at Andersonville, Georgia.)



By Luther Butler