Wednesday, July 27, 2011


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 dark forests
casting eerie shadows
on a quivering lake.
The evening mist
wanders the hills
sighs down the valley
as dusk descends
on a buried past

No comments:

Post a Comment