Fog shrouds worn stones of history,
Forgotten names covered in moss,
Ghosts of the past.
Family plots with babies’ names
Tell where angels rest,
Did they die of sickness?
Was their life too harsh?
They are ours to remember
In this humid marsh.
Searching for connection
Amid the crumbling stones,
Gray misting morning hides
The weathered dead.
They were important to someone,
They were a life.
Bones rest under soil
Dampened by mourners’ tears.

Author: Norm Rourke

In addition to writing and performing poetry, I have been a staff writer for Persimmon Hill and The Ketchpen, publications of the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. I have also been contributing writer and columnist for the Oklahoma News Weekly and have written pieces for the Sapulpa (OK) Daily Herald. I was also a columnist for the Henryetta (OK) Free Lance. I’m currently a contributor to the Oklahoma Observer (Oklahoma City) and I write for the Okmulgee (OK) News Network online publication. I’m also been a book reviewer for, Barnes & and for other publications.
I am a freelance writer and offer professional editing and communications consulting services for creative writers and business communicators. I organized a writers group—Okmulgee County Writers Roundup—and am past president of the Friends of Okmulgee Public Library.
Named to the Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels by the governor of that state, I have lived in and written about places in New Mexico, Texas, Colorado and Oklahoma.


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