Photo from the Cornwall Guide

Stone walls stretching,
Far as my eye can see,
Stone circles here and there
All old and looking as part of this green earth
Soil tucked in, grass and flowers taking root,
Claiming place among the stones.

Over mist-shrouded hills, through damp valleys,
I think of following these walls, dreaming all day.
The lenght of wall that I can follow is enough to pull
Me into the stone, begin to forget when I am

I trace the circles with my feet, certain at times
That Earth’s eye is watching,
I feel her questioning my want.
I’m tempted to kneel, put my face to the stone,
Wait for the mystical answer.
But I will not follow the impulse.

Dreams dissolve, the stones are just grey rocks,
The eye closes.
The time is not right.

December 2000