There sits a place of graves amidst a copse of oak
That drip with Spanish Moss, each in an eight foot skein.
A thousand graves or more lie 'neath the tree frogs' croak.
Only one cries at night - his soul speaks out, "Kathleen"
Contest Wtiting Challenge 5, March 2019, 4 Lines
Sponsor : Dear Hearts
Copyright © Larry Bradfield | Year Posted 2019
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