I remember the peace in the hidden site, that lay off an old dirt road in Pike County Indiana.
And the sound of those tuned wind chimes.
That hung from an old oak tree that loomed over the few graves that stood undisturbed.
Away from everything, such a peaceful beautiful music for none to hear and all to enjoy.
On a hot summer day I can always recall.
What peace existed there as I sat amongst the tombstones.
I wonder now hopeless as in memories and time that paradise sits untouched.
As my soul breathes fractured truths even I as a writer and man cannot repair.
Dealing in lies and old ghosts.
I wonder, do those chimes still beckon me home for a final rest.
In a place no pain does exist, hidden away as I only long to be.
John Patrick Robbins, is the editor in chief of the Rye Whiskey Review his work has been published in.
Punk Noir Magazine, San Pedro River Review, San Antonio Review, 1870 Magazine, Sacred Chickens, Heroin Love Songs, Piker Press, As It Ought To Be Magazine.
His work is always unfiltered.
Such loneliness. I can really hear it.
ReplyDelete