“Thy soul shall find itself alone…” – Edgar Allan Poe “Spirits of the Dead”

On cloudy days,
it feels like maybe haints
are set loose to roam around.

Finding their way into the crannies and hollers
all along these hills, looking for whatever
it is they need or lost or long for,

the missing pieces to restore peace
and allow them to lay down one final time,
let go and be free from ties to structures

built in this realm of woe.
Their spirits passing right through
us unnoticed in our hurry off to work,

our worry over money and time,
but sticking on in our lethargic yawns and
pondering of, “Why am I so tired?”