Old Whitey
Early on,
they questioned the value
of both of us,
Mother Bickerdyke.
You in calico, uncommissioned, and
I, lank and festering,
running scared.
After the Battle of Iuka,
after the Mississippi boy
who’d plowed with me and
fed me carrots
had tilted over my haunches trailing
red across my white flank,
a black powdered hole where
his patient eye had lived,
his Richmond rifle landing
like a stake in the soft earth,
I stood by his body,
pushed his shoulder with
my muzzle to rouse him
like I had the night I foaled, when
we were younger and
he lay in my stall,
waiting and
I thought he could stroke away
my labor pains with
those talking hands.
Then the shooting
surrounded me and
I galloped from him
through briars,
into swamp.
Mired, I snorted out his scent,
refusing my boy’s new smell that
came to me on low fog until
your Boys in Blue
caught my mud-caked,
trailing reins and
brought me to you.
Your hands were like his,
like my gentle boy’s.
They fingered my mane with
a hello before
they trailed across my withers,
touched and counted my ribs,
flowed down stifle and fetlock to
the gouges and ulcers of
war and fear.
You healed me
like you did those boys
you found in the dark,
left for dead.
With your fingers and
clean straw, with fresh
water and food.
Food that you prayed and
pressured into being
like multiplied loaves and fishes
from fathers and mothers in Illinois
who sent cows and chickens if only,
if only
their boys could come home.
Old Whitey © Cheryl Bostrom
About this poem:
I was moved to write this poem after reading about Mary Ann “Mother” Bickerdyke‘s rescue of a horse captured after the Civil War Battle of Iuka. Animals so often suffer as a result of human hostilities, and this one was no exception. Mother Bickerdyke redeemed Old Whitey’s life with the same tireless, tender care she gave fallen soldiers.
(The pics are of a horse I owned many years ago, also a white mare.)
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I with uphold you . . .” Isaiah 41:10b
*****
#warhorses #MotherBickerdyke #CivilWarnurses #watchingnatureseeinglife #CivilWarpoems #Christianpoetry
Beautiful, Cheryl. You’re an incredible writer.
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After reading this poem, I remembered your horse. It gave me a new view of the tenderness of such a massive being. Thanks for your poetry.
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Thanks for reading, Dana :).
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Thanks, Janet. You encourage me more than you know.
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Amazing poem Cheryl!
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Glad it resonated, Mike. Thanks!
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Cheryl What A Beautiful Story, I’d Not Heard it Before. Thank you. Joni
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What a beautiful poem and an example of pure grace!
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Beautiful poem, could feel the emotion of it. Purity and truth!,
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