In Fiddler's Field

The ancient graves sit silent – still,
upon the hill
in Fiddler's Field,
old bones concealed...

 
Where moonlight does the strangest things –
old ghosts she brings,
out from their tombs,
death's barren wombs...

 
A woeful place where evil thrives –
should you survive,
your fate lies sealed
in Fiddler's Field.

**Notes**
The Minute Poem is rhyming verse form consisting of 12 lines of 60 syllables written in strict iambic meter. The poem is formatted into 3 stanzas of 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4 syllables. The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabb, ccdd, eeff.

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