Tears of Gray
John Clare Stokes
In my every solemn timid step
I hear their measured determined cadence
The awful thunder in the far Olustee distance
I move aside and bow my head in respect.
Standing alone in the charred out palmetto
Looking through the piney woods smoldering
Mine eyes amidst the ranks of gray beholding
I follow from afar where the ghosts are marching.
To Ocean Pond they come to meet the invaders
The cannon raining cones upon us rebel yelling
The Pileated fleeing with the yellow- bellied
Keeping apace with the boys hasty drumming.
A leap of ember and a sudden reeling
Why have I followed these gray wraiths
Cowardly I tremble behind a loblolly safely
Musket and grape shot the rosin bark peeling.
In the aftermath on the quiet Osceola palmetto glade
Eyes stinging from the sulfurous all enveloping choking
There stares an artiface rigid in the smoke
Tears of grey an ascending sacrifice made.
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