It would not be long now, his doctors knew.
Initially they thought the taking of his arm
would save his life.
They didn’t count on the infection.
Now Stonewall teetered on the fine line
between the living and the dead.
In his fever and delirium
At last he spoke:
“Let us cross over the river,
And rest in the shade of the trees.”
Then Stonewall Jackson was no more.