Wailing trees in the hidden past
Panic in the wind
Trampling cross the shingled roofs
Infiltrates the rooms
Around a huddled form it goes
Closer, closer, closer
Rocking back and forth with her
Until she moves no more
The wailing echoes closely now
From the lips of her
Another stirs within the dust
Barely inching closer
The stone and bars capture the howls
And hide them in their depths
Silence meets the waiting ears
No rescue to be made
Hours passed like time hurled back
The panic seeps inside
With new life's scream and the fading wench
It seizes full control
A touch across the newborn's brow
The mother fades quick
It's said she whispered, "Maggie Jo."
Before her breath was lost
Wailing trees in the hidden past
Panic in the wind
Those who come here all alone
Will always be as such.
Next Week: Wesley James
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