Carolina Clay

Stir now the night on gentle southern streams.

Whisperings of yesterday collide with solitary dreams.

Waters rush now stilled and the darkness remembers.

Stars flicker on black; yesterdays glow now dying embers.

The silence steals against the coolness; the mind sleeps.

Vestiges of the past fade with necromancers of the forgotten deep.

Head now on rivers bank lay: melding into the darkness of the Carolina clay.

Gentle southern streams oh silent is the night as remembrance captures the deliverance of eternal light.

J. Allen Wilson © 3/2008