Image for post
Image for post
Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Who built the ragged stone field walls
that hide in the forest? They’ve seen
better days — beaten down by footsteps
and long gazes; held together only

by their human forgottenness.
Someone dragged that errata from the dirt,
boulder and slab, on a diet of sour bread
and sweet preserves; loaded them

on a sun-bleached cart and whipped
a well-loved animal into place.
We like to line things up — a trail
left in the grass, the mark of tectonic plates

moving away from one another,
generations of beaded civility in pursuit
of a perfect line; some of them waiting to be
completed, others just beginning.

© Trapper Markelz 2020

If you enjoyed reading this poem, please consider:

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store