Today's poem is by Todd Swift

Hume Knoll

The trees on Hume knoll have grown
since the highway cut down ones
they replaced, a hundred yards on,
no longer smaller than any of us.

When workers come to widen the route
they won't know they're walking where
Melita and her husband Ian took care
to block diesel-torn wind with firs.

None of the woodcutters will recall
that fifty years ago this was a bare hill —
snow-rounded — crossed with daffodils —
now another year raised in ice —

but as stiff green guards fall around
the cutters will recover older ground —
finding, during work's pause, grass
my grandparents mowed — as it was.

Copyright © 2003 Todd Swift All rights reserved
from Café Alibi
DC Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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