Rockfield Road

Rockfield Road A blend of northern grasses fields a forest of homestead trees; the saplings, long overcome by maturity, bear witness to the prayer of Native sons; to give back what you take from Mother Earth. In the midst of this green-crowned bark, a sacrificial altar of oak remains; its once tall spine gives strength to the walls that house my children. a beauty lost to hearth from need. One over-populated crab apple, draws deer at dusk and dawn. Thank God for a pre-set Mr Coffee, and a strangulated teapot for morning routines, worked in first light,cease, as the four-legged creatures near. I smile, as the collective intake of breath is held and released without accompanying speech. Breaking the moment to be on time for artificial satisfaction, is not the legacy I choose to leave my children.