I walked the long old walk
through the see-through forest to
the hill where the battle happened.
I saw people at the bottom
worshipping historical trauma in costumes.
Every time I think about what's been
set in stone
I gag.

Move to rip up all the headstones.
Does this bonnet spell remembrance?
Respect?

I caught the gleam from the woman polishing her gun on her apron
and I liked it and I hated it.