Historical

Saw some quilts constructed In the Civil Wartime years, One made by a soldier, Not as strange as it appears. Cloth was cut from uniforms, With both sides represented – Harmony in textiles Way before some men repented. Wonder what that soldier thought While sewing up his stitches, Maybe as he hid himself In foxholes or in ditches? Was he thinking of his home, His family or his honey? Worrying about the war Or keeping warm or money? Could he ever picture That the quilt that he created Would be hung in a museum With admirers belated? As I wandered the exhibit I was taken back in time Where my musings and imaginings Were stitched into this rhyme.