Dawn Drums They march again to war, Sniffling, shuffling, voices muffled, Through dawn's uncertain door Youth and man, rich and poor, Through campfires' smothered smokes They march again to war, From college, farm and store They carry loaded muskets Through dawn's uncertain door Damp drums tapping, four by four, Meadow mists like ghosts ahead, They march again to war Black cannon mouths, fresh gore, Shattered limbs and death await Through dawn's uncertain door Flags yet furled And bayonets sheathed, They march again to war Through dawn's uncertain door Robert Walton This poem was first published at Classical Poets. This poem was inspired by a different but related relief by Caspar Buberl, which can be viewed here. Robert Walton is a retired middle school teacher and lifelong rock climber with many ascents in the Sierras and Pinnacles National Park. His writing about climbing has appeared in the Sierra Club's Ascent. His publishing credits include works of science fiction, fantasy and poetry. He also worked as a newspaper columnist for a time.His historical novel Dawn Drums won the 2014 New Mexico Book Awards Tony Hillerman Prize for best fiction, first place in the 2014 Arizona Authors competition and first place in the historical fiction category of the 2017 Readers Choice Awards. Most recently, his SF short story “Starbuck Billy” was published in Alien Dimensions. Please visit his website for more information about him: http://chaosgatebook.wordpress.com/
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November 2024
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