Forty years to this date
As I drift along the soldiered pines
along the shore of the lake
They say time has a way of revealing things
Calling all things into light
Perhaps time to let go of a ghost that haunts me
in my nightmares night after night
I write my ending quickly
As rain threatens my recorder
thinking about enquiring minds
and my life as it's reporter
An old x marks the spot
on an old dead Pine
As I pull back the thicket
of creeping green vines
An unmarked grave
Still a curse to me
of a life taken
a life that just could not be
Driving out of the estate
I stop the car and look around
the place so empty and dark
acres of trees all around
I see the rusted Ax leaning against the old shed
Deciding some of these stories
Were better left with the dead..
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