Gone to the Fields

These were the stones that formed the foundation that held up the house where they lived. Here was the hearth that sheltered the fire that warmed them from through nights til the spring. Fractured and fallen, worn by the weather, returned to where it began. Gone to the fields. Gone to the fields. These were the stones that were piled one by one as they made the soil ready to sow. A pen for an animal, a piece from a tool, as their lives and their families did grow. Worn by the weather and washed by the rain, covered in time and concealed Gone to the fields. Gone to the fields. There were the markers that marked of the place where they laid the dead into the ground Here was a name. Here was a date. And a family gathered around. Marred by the weather and washed by the rain til theres nothing left there to read. Gone to the field. Gone to the field. Gone.