Glendalough

An austere life
of poverty and prayer
weeps from wet
moss grown granite.
Ancient hymns
echo church ruins
circling gravestones
of long forgotten souls.

Hooded cloaks
drape dank dark forests
casting eerie shadows
on a quivering lake.
The evening mist
drifts the hills
Sighs down the valley,
as dusk descends
on a buried past