Saint Andrews cross on a Crimson field
was borne by Pickett’s men that  day.
When Union canister, like a scythe,
swept Proud Virginia’s men away.

A handful reached the “High water Mark”
Armistead was one of those who gained the Copse.
Their heroism was beyond question
But here the gray line broke and stopped.

Ordinary men in extraordinary times
are called to do extraordinary things.
Mortal flesh becomes translated
into legends that a Bard might sing.

I stand where Cushing’s battery stood
On that third day so long ago
Here Stars and Bars met Stars and Stripes
Flags fly forever; friends now, not foes.