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stones,
stone miles
there is history everywhere
the feeling of labour, fatigue, tiredness, languishment
too many arms needed to lay the stones down
too many feet leaving traces and markings
too many people leaving for distant landscapes
people coming back from the end of the world
from battles
from families
from estrange beliefs
I see in my imagination slaves,
workers,
soldiers
horses,
carriages,
arms,
war
domination
subjugation
liberation
the sun shines hard on these sliced stones
polished by time, rounded, dark
making them alive,
vibrant
suffocating
time-worn stones




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