Haunting Lessons 3 Poem by norman hale

As I was hunting in the woods
I walked across a pile of rocks
When one of them suddenly slid
Then suddenly it turned and flopped

Then the smoke started rolling
And this manly figuire began to appear
It looked like a Cherokee Indian
I was more curious than in fear

When suddenly he started talking
And asked 'Why are you walking on my stones
I was buried here many moons ago
And now you have uncovered my bones

I died here a long time ago
Fighting for what I felt was right
All over the greed of our land
Now, I just rest here both day and night

This was once a great place to hunt
But mans greed has wiped out most
There are still some that roam here
But most of them only as ghost

If it's not too much to ask
Could you place back that stone
It helps to hold in the heat
On what's left of my old bones'

It was then I looked down
And saw the bones uncovered
And realized that this was a grave
That I blundered upon and discovered

I placed the stone right back
As I remembered it before I slid
I told the Indian I was very sorry
And I felt as silly as a little kid

We then said our farewells to each other
Then I turned my way back to my jeep
And drove my way back home, and studied
How he was so right and I felt so cheap

Keep you eyes open in the woods
For oblong piles of old stones
For underneath you never know
There just might be a pile of bones

wrote 10/5/2009 Norman Hale Jr.