The top field was mowed
A month ago
And then it was
A wasteland
Now deep green
An arena
A place where legends
Stand to face their demons
A place of dancing hares
And golden treasure.
These walls were built
By gnarly, knowing hands
With gritty nails
And bruised knuckles.
You face the morning
And I face the evening
We will meet in the midday sun.
We clear away the stones
And, placing them with care
Divide the world.
#CoSopoetry