♪♫♩
tap tap taphammering
music to our ears
listen to the music again
what can you hear?
at first the pitch is sweet
the deeper in the deeper the sound
arms sore from the work
hear the sweat trickle off of their brows
rebuilding that which was laid down
sometimes they tap in concert
sometimes in harmony
repairing the work of those who have gone before
apprentices following a long line of pillars of the earth
the sound of tapping soon replaced
by the soft spread of buttery mortar
carefully mixed to the right consistency
placed like icing amongst old stones
caressing the stones
laid there 200 years ago
by long-dead Scots who crossed an ocean
desiring to build and create testaments
6 comments:
As I read through your poem, it was as if I were there, in person, watching.
That is some job of work...with the emphasis on work.
Nicely done. We have a friend who is a mason, who will probably build an outdoor fireplace for us at some point. Tough work.
Good imagery!
Hari OM
Loved both these Jenn - I have one uncle who is still dry-stone dyking in his 70s and his son is a highly skilled stonemason specialising in restoration. It is fantastic to see. You do it justice with your words. YAM xx
Beautiful poem!
Post a Comment