Ungiven Answer

History has been a fascinating subject for me, and often causes my imagination to mix with the reality of the past.  This poem shows this:


                                 The open fields of Maine
                                      hold the secrets that
                                          that long ago were there for
                                               all to see.
                                 The children ran and played
                                      where new green grass
                                           and flowers now grow
                                               undisturbed.
                                  An old man slowly walks
                                        down a worn path
                                            to a destination only
                                                known by him.
                                  Trees surrounding the path
                                         guard with open eyes
                                             peering through the green
                                                 leaves of summer.
                                   A call from a memory
                                          echoes across the
                                             open field, and waits
                                                  for an ungiven answer.