Lost

Poem about a missing person.

Somewhere out there,

beyond the hills,

lies a sight,

bequeathing chills.

The night is dark,

blanketing mist,

the moonlight reveals,

death's kiss.

Beneath an aging,

Douglas Fir,

soil disturbed,

something interred.

Hidden below,

blades of grass,

an anguished soul,

rests at last.

Bones are bleached,

buried deep,

laid to rest,

in a heap.

Left to rot,

maybe tomorrow,

I'll be found,

and end your sorrow.