Standing at the copse of trees

I look across a field of grass

Beyond is a line of trees

It is a far distance of fields

The wind pushes the grass

It is like thousands of legs

I start to share the story

Two days Lee's army failed

Failed to dislodge or defeat

Meade's army formed a hook

Lee thrashed to break the line

July heat was like a weight

Sickly smell of death assailed

All waited for the next chapter

Could it be the last chapter

Across the field was the enemy

The enemy on both sides waited

At the tree copse they prepared

Guns were placed and sighted

Men either piled up or dug in

Prepared their rifles for attack

Supplies were brought up fast

Over the hill the relief men lay

Beyond hospital tents were set up

In the line of trees they prepared

One of the longest line of guns set

The men ate, watched and prayed

Prepared their rifles for attack

Those trees seemed so far away

A few could sleep but most waited

They waited to break the blue line

Dozens of cannon recoiled at order

Cannon balls shrieked at the copse

Dirt flew trees cracked and men died

Silence lost in shrieking screaming

What seemed like days they fell

Mostly on the relief and hospitals

Healthy wounded wounded killed

Orders sent rushing riders delivered

Under the trees men formed units

In the copse rifles were gripped tight

Anticipation fear and hope by both

In the trees they formed their ranks

In the copse they feared they'd run

In the trees they feared they'd run

In the trees officers called to duty

The men would not shame others

The flags sewed by women reminded

Reminded them who they fought for

Cannon stop who killed what destroyed

Dust settles and all is preparation

Eyes peer through dust for coming army

Sweaty palms are wiped in preparation

From the trees comes an army of red flags

Moving between silent cannon to cheers

It is a long way to win a battle or to die

The tall grass bends before them each step

In the copse it is awesome and fearsome

Ranks of men form waves in the grass

Some count flags others pray all wait

The last moments of silence hanging

In the field flashes of light then booms

Shrieking cannon balls hit and explode

Men crumble or just disappear around

Ranks adjust as they continue to copse

In the copse men cower and dig deeper

Some ears bleed from cannon pressure

All they see are explosions and red flags

Watch with respect as they have faced it

In the fields they are slowed by a fence

Quickly they form up on the other side

Stepping forward they now face rifle fire

Cannon fire canister like giant shotguns

In the copse men load and fire without aim

Too many targets to aim at any one person

Riflemen load and fire three times a minute

A continuous noise of death surrounds all

Those left in the field crash the Union line

What started as a mighty wave now a ripple

Blue and gray intertwine as blue kills gray

Back and forth fighting till blue reliefs come

Many gray are captured but some go back

A long walk through the field of carnage

From the copse “Fredericksburg” is shouted

Soon only moans and shrieks are heard

What is called Picket's charge is now over

All left are monuments and wind blown grass

The story complete I look to see the crowd

Some say thanks and others drift away

7/23/2025