Haunted Solstice
When the day lies long on the half-grown hill
The eyes of the dead come 'round come 'round
When the birds go quiet and the wind goes still
The mouths of the dead come around
A few words unerased in an endless loop
When the smiles of the dead come 'round come 'round
The fields they have run in they run in again
When the legs of the dead come around
The sun in their hair and their breath sweet again
When the scents of the dead come 'round come 'round
Their touch on our arm bids us come bids us come
When the eyes of the dead come around.
copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved
