An acrostic is a poem or series of lines in which the initial letter of a line usually spells out something in sequence, like a name or motto. The following poem is a revision of one that was written many years ago, and published on Sept. 10th, 1966. It spells out "burial mound."
I seems the poem was sparked by what happened on the farm next to ours, on the same section of land, back in Sac County, Iowa. The farm buildings were well inside the section, toward the northeast from our house. A railroad ran east of where these buildings were situated.
It was from over in that direction, that we'd hear the train come through in the early evening. We called it the "Galloping Goose." It seems to me its sounds, floating across the pastureland, fields and creek, went something like this: "a-hump, a-hump, a-hump" and its horn: "Derrrnt, derrrnt!"—this latter perhaps suggesting a sound of a goose. And I wonder, if from these sounds together, came the name of the train, the way we referred to it.
I remember jumping in the hay mow on that farm, slamming my teeth against my gum, cutting it. I still feel a little bump inside which is probably a remnant of that long-ago occurrence.
The acrostic here includes internal rhyme and alliteration. In the third line, you have overlapping alliterations: "...a haymow heap, and corn there husked in crib to keep."
Before a barn and houses there stood, away from creek, away from wood,
Upon a higher ground, these were built, and round lay fields like patchwork quilt.
Recall, I may, a haymow heap, and corn there husked in crib to keep...
In time, its use, as living space, no longer there was given place,
And the shelters went afire, aflame a black-plumed pyre!
Lo that, which burnt asmoke, a mound of earth would cloak.
Man hollowed a hole, the remnants to swallow...and covered with dirt to follow.
O ponder, what's there interred: no more, are dwellers heard;
Undone's a rural abode, to gain more land, for seeds be sowed...
No more a place is there, for people to live and share...
Destroyed, 'dozed under and done...no longer a home beneath the sun.
— John Riedell