Poem I wrote on Civil War
Fredericksburg (the flames on Marye's heights)
Look above the heavens are glowing,
The grey and blue lay in pools of red,
Across the mighty Styx they’re rowing
Swelled with words so hastily said
The flesh runs from Marye’s height
Meanders down to the steams,
I’ll tell you it’s such a sight
Disturbed only by a young colonels screams
Will this soil tomorrow grow?
Flowers for a nation pained?
Will tomorrow a new seed sew?
Or have these fields been eternally stained?
Upon those heights brothers faced,
And charged upon their mother’s son,
The mortar and musket fire chased,
Until there was no place to run
While Hancock surveyed the death,
Stomach churned at the thought,
The wife’s and daughter’s upset,
Home in a casket their hearts were brought
At what cost is the duty set?
What price to turn the tides?
How many moons before we forget?
Or until bold enough again to make such strides
Virginia, cold and blood covered lay,
In fields of festering recycling meat,
The smell of men so far astray,
Could raise old Abe from his seat
But what history have they given?
To a nation in need of the men,
I think the politicians will be forgiven
By the blindness of the poet’s pen