mulberry fields

they thought the field was wasting and so they gathered the marker rocks and stones and piled them into a barn    they say that the rocks were shaped some of them scratched with triangles and other forms    they must have been trying to invent some new language they say the rocks went to build that wall there guarding the manor and some few were used for the state house crops refused to grow i say the stones marked an old tongue and it was called eternity and pointed toward the river    i say that after that collection no pillow in the big house dreamed    i say that somewhere under here moulders one called alice whose great grandson is old now too and refuses to talk about slavery    i say that at the masters table only one plate is set for supper    i say no seed can flourish on this ground once planted then forsaken    wild berries warm a field of bones bloom how you must i say