Land and time

Fragment

Sadness of the long ages, time flowing like a river

through the valley carving the ruins and the land,

felling forests and giving them birth,

making rudimentary roads and raising villages,

bringing pestilences and famines to feed the soil,

ever moving time flowing through the valley

as the ruins crumbled and were joined with new ones

the slow decay as what was human built

sought to join with the nature,

slowly throwing away it's form so that the

feet, mind and hand that walked and worked the land

didn't recognize the natural stone from the man carved one,

the hills created by the ice age from a one

raised as a monument to his kin so long gone to dust.

The time flowed, the river broke it's banks,

the human beings came and went

and where once were their graves

soon were meadows, a forest, a field

throwing up bits of bone to the farmer to wonder

beside his neighing horse.

Snow fell, sun shined, rains came,

and one day someone picked up

his white bone in amazement,

walked in muddy boots to the house

to call the authorities just in case,

and time flowed to the moment

when his grandchild with frantic fingers

would push numbers in her cell phone

when he laid collapsed, heartbeats slowing,

on the same field seeing the clear, blue sky

darkening on the edges of his vision

as time left him on it's bank.

11.04.2013