‘Silent Drums at Gettysburg’ by Robert Walton The Society July 1, 2013 Poetry Drums lie tilted, battered and still; Grass fires gutter; none are left to kill; Bitter smoke coils through leafless trees; A stunned horse quivers on bloody knees. A tin cup’s clank, a thump, a moan – Battle’s dirge in dissonant tones Drifts above those soon to be dead, Blue coated, gray, innocent of dread. Bloody fingers seek a hand to hold And are touched instead by day’s last gold. A torn boy’s dying, upraised hand Marks Union’s price and freedom’s land. For the sesquicentennial of the battle of Gettysburg Robert Walton is a writer and poet living in King City Featured Image: “Battle of Gettysburg”, L. Prang & Co. print of the painting “Hancock at Gettysbug” by Thure de Thulstrup, showing Pickett’s Charge. Restoration by Adam Cuerden. (Wikimedia Commons) Related Post ‘Statues’ and Other Poetry by Charles Bauer Statues A Villanelle Two Buddhas now a lost reality, A crowd chants loudly near a pile of stone; Across the South you won’t find General Lee. T... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.