‘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 Ode to the Confederate Dead by Cause Bewilder for Joshua Philipp Grave statue after statue falls with strict impunity. Memorials and monuments yield to community. The wind wh... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email.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.