At Play in the Cemetery

When the sun has set
and the moon is shining bright.
Tween the mist and the shadows
unseen spirits walk the night.

Sometimes you'll hear their laughter
floating on a breeze.
Sometimes it is their crying
that whispers through the trees.

They visit on haunts, places
once held dear, on Halloween
they walk amidst mortals
the seen with the unseen.

But on other nights when mortals sleep
they from slumber rise.
They wander midst the tombstones.
Hidden from mortals eyes.

The adults speak of other times
and how the world has changed.
They wonder at humanity
has it become deranged?

But the children
act as children will.
Run, laugh, play.
Their playground the hill

that rises near the top.
They climb the trees.
They swim the lake.
The adults they tease.

That is until the morning sun
their play is done then.
Reluctantly the children
trudge off to bed again.

To sleep away the day.
Till night beckons at their door.
Then they wake and rise
to play, and play some more.

(first published in Twilight Times October 2001)