Field Stones
When this house was new,
field stones formed the dry stack walls.
One by one, each stone was picked,
then placed with care,
a piece of the puzzle.
Sixty years and what remains?
This tumble of stones,
thatched with grass
and tufted in moss,
so many pieces missing.
Now,
one by one,
we lug those stones.
One by one,
we roll them
end over end over end…
then rest.
One at a time,
slow and slow,
a stone pathway forms,
and winds
to
our
door.
The stones and walls
that once warned
Stay Out,
now mark the way to home
and
Welcome.
And one by one,
stones live anew.
They call to us,
Come Home, Come Home.
Come Home, Come Home.
