Landscape Painted Red Poem by John F. McCullagh

Landscape Painted Red



Every drop of blood slaves shed
beneath the lash and rod
was repaid in kind at Sharpsburg
by the terrible swift sword.
Twenty three thousand Sacrificed
in joint sanquinity
to debate the principle
that all men should live free.
At Burnside's bridge,
on the sunken road,
The Landscape dripping red.
The wounded called for water
as they lay among the dead.
At the Whitewashed Dunker church
the Dutchmen stood agog
as the fearful toll was paid
by brave souls on either side

Monday, September 17, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: war
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
09/17/1862 the battle of Antietam(Sharpsburg) The worstday of the American Civil War.
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