We are swimming
In the shallow sea

Until the tectonic crash
Of continents occurs

And the ancient Appalachians 
That dwarf Everest

Grow and drain
Our home so we settle

[through calcite caverns…bubble…sinking holes]

I am a pile of stones
On the loam

From limestone slabs 
Beneath the ground 

The one emerges who sees
And I become a wall

Dry stacked in rows 
Shaped by lines and chisels 

And hammers until I form
The bones of the field

From this our crops emerge
And our cattle are cataloged

When the car crashes
My stones scatter

You are the eye that sees
My shape restored

From ancient shards
And weathered memories.