Fields covered with rocks rounded by the eons.
Left as the glaciers receded leaving behind their
tears
filling the cracks, crevices and currents of new
streams and riverbeds.
Rocks covering fields glazed by grass gleaming in
the sun.
Rocks picked up and woven into a fence that winds
like the serpentine path
holding back the imaginary black horse grazing on
lush grasses.
Grasses so tall they provide cover for rabbits and
mice and snakes--
even birds.
The horse lays in the shade resting with full belly.
Rains exposing new old rocks.
Rocks wondering what is burning their backs
previously covered by years of leaf rot turned to
topsoil.
What is this bright thing that dries the water off
their backs?
More rocks to be stacked along the fence
now slipping back into the soil
nestling
to be covered then found again.
The horse old.
The rabbits dead eaten by who knows what.
It was all from decay …
from change.
Now once again returning home.
©Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee August 13th, 2014
All Rights Reserved
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