with the stone wall.
it borders the field
where wealthy neighbors
ride their horses.
the old wall,
it keeps no one in, or out
for that matter,
but it needs repair.
some stones have fallen
to the ground, weather
and time
doing its damage, but
it won't take long.
i'll take a cold drink
along with me.
i'll take breaks from
the heavy lifting,
resting in the shade
beneath
an ancient oak tree,
planted before
my father's birth.
then get back to it,
aligning rocks and stones
where they
need to go. as he would do
at my age,
repairing what's gone wrong.
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