The Hill

Long before your kind
Cast their stone bound shadow
across this land; the mound stood.
Overlooking the lough, crested by lush trees
And walked by boar and bear, wolf and lynx

But, come they did, slowly at first, hunting
Gathering, fishing, looking refuge, hunted.
With time, stone tools from the mounds
Own flesh, helped clear the trees shadows
Broke beasts bones, saw the first flickering flames

Wood for huts, stone for walls, meat
For hungry mouths, the deluge was on.
New shadows were cast by fortifications, totems
Stretched skins, curling smoke. New sounds
And smells arose in the sky, the time of gods.

The gods of leaf time, wood time, animal time
Of stone and flint, of shells of cloth and scent.
The kings and kinsmen drew their lands/lots
Held their own, raised clans, cleared pastures
Erected stones for life and death on the mound

Feet paced, feet followed hooves, feet stood still
All the time the sun rose and the moon traversed
And humankind bowed heads and raised eyes
Watched new comers fall upon them, and survived
The mound was food, and shelter, home and sacred.

And so it is. All is remembered by the mounds own flesh
Charred and cut, broken and taken, scarred and skinned
But the stone holds its own memories, if we could
But hear them, free them, listen them one more time.
The mound sighs, ah new bare cold feet and fire. ; listen!


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