AMERICA STONEHENGE
(For Colin and
Ann-Marie)
The spirits of the
dead live on
Among the trees
and monoliths
Near a small New
Hampshire town.
And we speak in
whispered tones it seems
And tread softly
on its Hallowed ground.
When pharaohs
ruled upon their throne
What lives were
lost on sacrificial stone?
Within these walls
and tunnels deep
I feel their
souls. I feel and weep.
Across the sea in
England
Their lies a field
of monoliths
And sacrificial
stone.
Come journey soft
and silently
Across the plains
of Salisbury.
© Alan Winters
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Although this poem goes out to all of you, it is dedicated to Ann-Marie and Colin from across the pond. While I was vacationing through the northeastern US, I stopped at AMERICAN STONEHENGE in New Hampshire. Through archeological digs in the area scientists concluded that it dated from 3000 BC on up to about 1600 AD used and added to by many cultures.
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