Some day after black-fly season,
but before it snows, I will take those interested
to Ossipee Glen to see the cellar holes:
labor of hands established—then, completed,
left for earth to swallow up again.
I will not moralize—
just study the faces of those who cared to come,
as they consider work
they themselves have done or left undone.
Once they’ve seen it all,
thought it over for themselves, I’ll lead them back
to the hiker’s parking lot—
from which they will go home, a few may realize,
to no continuing city.
Russell Rowland writes from New Hampshire. Recent work appears in Wilderness House, Bookends Review, and The Windhover. His latest poetry book, Magnificat, is available from Encircle Publications. He is a trail maintainer for the Lakes Region (NH) Conservation Trust.
No comments:
Post a Comment