Old Pewter Can, 1862


In a tin can is a letter I penned,
On the Tennessee River near Shiloh,
While laying mortally wounded. 
Shot by a Yankee in uniform of blue,
In a peach orchard...
1862.

As I cast my eyes in Heaven above,
Waiting for the last cord of a harp, 
I feel your breath upon my soul,
Carrying me home to Old Dixie 
And the pecan fields of home.

Now I pass from Johnny Reb to dust,
But with this letter I send my love, 
Enclosed with a button off my gray. 
Delivered by a mule pulling a caisson,
With a tear inside and old pewter can.

And when you taste nectar of a peach,
Remember me as the soldier who cried,
When they lowered my bones in my alone, 
Whispering Amen, doing the best I should.
On the Tennessee River near Shiloh...
1862.
 

0