THE RIVER CRIMSONED

 

 

The night wind slipped through the restless trees

Bearing the cannon’s blast, the cries and the screams

of the day’s long battle upon the now hallowed ground,

and the river crimsoned where the dying would be found..

 

 

When the murderous sun had the decency to fall

On their ragged wool blankets lay the soldiers, all.

Some slept to escape, some slept to forget,

But the river still crimsoned where the dying were yet.

 

 

First light came cruelly to display all the horror

Of the dead….the carnage…the calling card of war.

And as the blood red sun seeped over the hills

The river crimsoned and bled and gave everyone chills.

 

 

This day…somehow worse…if that could be said

for the bloody business at hand was all up ahead.

The searching commenced..the calling of names began

all along the river crimsoned…. where heroic blood ran.