Three Times A Day

~A Poem of the Siege of Vicksburg~

My world is exploding,

Boom, boom, boom.

It's all around me.

It's so loud.

Three times a day, it is safe.

Three times a day, I can breathe.

Eight, noon, and eight,

That's when the Yankees eat.

Eight, noon, and eight,

It feels almost normal.

My home is in ruins,

My family is torn,

My brothers are defending our city.

Three times a day, I don't worry.

Three times a day, it feels like peace.

We are safer than most in this cave.

The firing can't reach us,

But it doesn't ease the worry.

Three times a day, we can help our boys.

Three times a day, I count my blessings.

Source:

My Vicksburg by Ann Rinaldi