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12 February

Chalk Calculations on the Head of a Shovel

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Chalk Calculations on the Head of a Shovel

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Sunday

Is Lincoln’s birthday

I like this guy

Though I probably

Don’t know why

And don’t know enough

Why maybe

I should not

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What I know

Is that he was born

In Kentucky

(me, too)

And he grew tall

(not me)

And had a sense of humor

(played pranks)

And could split rails

And was a failure

At nearly anything he tried

Except

The holding of one office

To which he was elected,

The one and he

That we remember

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Republicans

Were upstarts then

And maybe have their best

In their first

‘Cause he was pretty good

Flawed

Perhaps greatly,

Haunted

By the losses

In his family

And in the losses in

The nation’s family

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He was a kind of

Savior to that nation

In a conflict

That many folk

Did not take too seriously

Taking picnics

Borne in carriages

To watch the battle like

Watching

A tournament

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And then the bullets

And the missiles

Spoke to say

There is no recreation

And four years later

(every war is Pyrrhic)

Everyone who breathed

Said for themselves

And for everyone

No longer drawing breath

This is enough

Let’s have an ending

To the ruinous process

We drew upon ourselves

For growing up

A country

Four years

As an age

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He freed the slaves

Many people freed the slaves

Among them slaves

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The many battles,

Wounds and deaths

Disease

Formulative scars later

And the war

Was over

Save the carpetbagging

And the agonizing irony

Of Reconstruction

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But first

By the assassination’s bullet

He was removed

From everything we know

And might improve

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Johnson tried

But was impeached

Though not convicted

And was left

To practice

What we recall as an ineffectual

Administration

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The remains

Of Abraham

Were taken from the capitol

To Springfield

For burial

While we’ve had nearly

Eight-score years

To count his steps

And missteps

But he was carried

And placed over stone

And under earth

For silence

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And shall we say he’s great?

Greatness is

On the inside

Of a life

And then through what is done

And if we can reason there

We may only with

Minimal compunction

Call him great

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Once we have decided,

We should relate the news

To the President

Maybe

Before his tomb

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C L Couch

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Photo by Unseen Histories on Unsplash

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Split Life

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Split Life

(12 February)

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Today is the birthday

Of Abraham Lincoln

Peer Kentuckian

Who finished growing up

Somewhere else

First Republican

And best

Sixteenth President

And we will argue

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Tall, wearing a beard because

Someone said it would

Look good

Splitter of rails

And he had other talents

Self-taught

Until he got to schools

Lawyer, legislator

Failed entrepreneur

Failed at many jobs

Not a success story

Until the one great thing

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Freer of slaves, though hardly alone

In that

Slavery should never

Have happened;

We’ve been paying for it ever since

Until together

We might march on

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Moderator of the Civil War

What a wicked way

To spend one’s fifties

Railed (another way)

Until an overwhelming victory

Came to pass

And then

To count the dead

And give them stones

Play “Dixie” on the White House lawn

Killed a few days later

(not for that)

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His remains buried back in

Springfield, Illinois

His body for the nation

His spirit unto judgment

Thence we hope

To paradise

And so it could be

For all

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C L Couch

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split-rail fence at Gettysburg

photograph by Jesse Lee Tucker – own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51840069

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