Le Montagne Noire, Languedoc July 2019
Stone walls march
up the mountain side
beside cliffs of the same
granite. Stone chipped
and stacked by hands long gone.
Walking the gravel road
I can almost see them, those farmers
hands calloused and bleeding,
carrying tons of rock
to surround their fields.
Here in the mountains,
under the deep dome of sky,
time drips slow honey.
Chartreuse lichen and succulents
with flowers blue and yellow
cling to surfaces, not caring
if nature or human-made.
Bees rise up buzzing,
hours hang sweet in the air,
apricots waiting to be picked.
