Between Appalachia and the Shield

A horizon of pine
A shield of oak
The gale breath of the Northern winds…
Lamentations of yore
'Fore ages of Man
Odes to Boreas echoed over the land
In the forest below
Where spirits roamed in darkness
Bound in life, to stand guard after death
Under grey skies
Ripe with winter’s chill
«A few acres of snow», once hallowed ground.
We’ve left the Earth
A dead, cold world
Stripped of its vigor
By those it gave life
The days grow cold
The nights grow long
Between Appalachia and the Shield
On the stillest of nights
When the frost grips the soil
The light of the Aurora
Still paints vivid dreams
Bringing life to the emptiness
Recalling what once was