Terry Michelsen

Sleepy rain on leaf-strewn ground
Drowsy walk on no man’s path
Foot prints leave no sound
Amidst the potted graves

Mist rises to read the names
Secrets entombed beneath the earth
Heralds time and life and rain
Forgotten but held in the heart

Playing patty fingers in the Holy slaughter
Ireland and the fenced-in holiday
Woman and vibrance of laughter
With tears of remembrance

Carolina blues on leaf-colored land
Captivate the soul’s lithe hand