The Musketball
Rusted and pitted from decades
of rain and summer heat,
and the raw wind of winter,
a musketball emerges from
a sandy, tufted ridge of earth
under the shade of ancient pines.
What battle ensued in that place
that it yields up flint arrowheads
and battered musketballs?
Lafitte’s lost treasure underneath
the curve of the ravine?
Conquistador gold?
The crows sound a sonorous alarm;
the rabbits shuffle across the path
and the buck deer jumps the creek.
Whatever the secrets of the forest,
only the spirits can reveal them
and they remain silent.
Rusted and pitted from decades
of rain and summer heat,
and the raw wind of winter,
a musketball emerges from
a sandy, tufted ridge of earth
under the shade of ancient pines.
What battle ensued in that place
that it yields up flint arrowheads
and battered musketballs?
Lafitte’s lost treasure underneath
the curve of the ravine?
Conquistador gold?
The crows sound a sonorous alarm;
the rabbits shuffle across the path
and the buck deer jumps the creek.
Whatever the secrets of the forest,
only the spirits can reveal them
and they remain silent.
We found spearheads and arrowheads, and then we found what appears to be a musketball. Of course, now that I am writing this blog, I cannot find any of them!! I promise that if I do find them, I will take pictures and post those pictures. Meanwhile, I often wonder what happened. I guess I like to think it had something to do with Lafitte's gold.... but, records indicate he and his party of mutineers travelled further east and south. In the meantime, it is fun to imagine that the spirits of those involved in the fray still inhabit the forest and come out, sometimes, at night or in the mist at the end of the trail.
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