Читать книгу These Intricacies - David Harrity - Страница 11

Along that dusted drag, cut through the thicket, rise slabs

of stacked stones from some hundred years ago.

The craggy course lurching farther than my eye allows—

dead arrangements with the past and harder truths piled

to the knee, defying budding cramps of thorny weeds

and stretching like a snake dividing lines of property.

This records the era’s cruel, brutal trade—blind power

eating at the heart. How does a wall get made into an altar?

Which fractured rock reminds us of the hate we hide away?

Each rugged memory of history’s chains, each raw split

making known the past. And this is how we go about

remembering it here: Kentucky River to county line,

we tally up the evil heaped, stone by daunting stone.