My Favorite Place is a Cemetery (Pt 1)

This blog kicks off a mini series as an ode to my favorite place to go think. My thinking place. I hope you enjoy my little blurbs about it, and I can't wait to introduce you to it. It's my peaceful place, my muse, my little escape. And I think it's time I truly embraced what a weirdo I am. Because aren't we all?


Sleepers' Hill

The glittering river
Wet and wild
Storms past the sleepers' hill,
Their stories alive
Though their bodies are dead
But vessels for souls.
They bask in the river's peace,
Crescendo as she rages,
Whisper when the summer heat dries up her banks.
In the full moon, they dance
In the shadow of the holly.
In the rain they lay soft
In their beds in the earth. 
The city looms East
Unaware they still speak
On the hill
Where sleepers sleep.


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