This place seems like a skeleton now

Bones of an ossified stone fossil giant

Bones left exposed eroded of meaning

Everywhere I look there are remnants.


Fragments of what was here before

And memories of people’s stories told

Echo through the land. Those memories

Handed down not knowing the reason.


Stories handed down, stories handed on

I was a small child then and so young

Painful to know that those stories told

Are not told now. That pitiless silence.



On the stone littered ridge

Standing in silence

On the stone littered ridge

Surrounded by days

Bare edged morning

As black crows dive

Clustered close to curve

And stoop straight through

The treeless rush

A headlong scream

Launched from the headless hill.