“The Swap”
-- by Joseph C. Dorffner, Sr. - Copyright 2000 --
They came upon a swollen creek,
its volume not to cross.
Settled in with encampment,
till swift current there at loss.
Came from the far off shore,
a voice so loud and clear.
“Hey Yank, we’re both encamped,
how’s ‘bout a nice cold beer?”
A joke that broke the grimness,
the fears of the day.
Voices chattered back and forth,
rifles stacked as they to stay.
“How about a swap there Reb,
tobacco for our coffee?”
“We’ll drag it cross by rope,
each the other’s referee.”
Though bullets fly tomorrow,
a swap was made that day.
That eased the hate and bitterness,
held them both at bay.