catalog number: 45069

There's a dry stone wall by my
house, several hundred years old.

Held together not by mortar but
by intelligence and care.

It simply states where one
pasture began and another ended.

Boundries, one can walk over.
Now cool woods, reclaim fields
long fallow.

In my garden I plant for
tomorrow.

Flowers and stones, heave and
reappear.

But it's the wild flowers by the
roadside, my granddaughter picks
for me.

Mary Travers
July 1990