This is actually the woods behind the Frost Farm in Derry, NH. This was not the inspiration for this poem. 🙂
Out for a Morning Walk
My footfalls grate
on packed stone,
a long-gone bed
for train loads
too demanding for
these worn-out hills.
Here, a sky full of
bird talk – an owl,
a blue jay, a crow or two.
So many warnings,
a tension of tongues.
A river complains
on its way to dark places.
Earlier, I stirred names
of New England settlers
in a sinking cemetery.
Husbands next to wives:
Desire and Jebediah,
Hope and Abraham,
Julia and William.
Stones leaned back
and bowed forward.
No repose, no end
to the bickering.
Sometimes, even
a morning walk
can’t silence the din.
Between Land and Sky 