LIMEKILN

This is a sister poem to the last one I posted, When Childhood Dreams Still Came True. I want to post it now as an accompaniment to the first poem.

Dedicated to Brayden, My Nephew, Who Has Never Seen This Place

Will you take me with you?
I want to feel the beat of your heart when you know the kiln for the first time.

I want to see the expression in your eyes
when your glance becomes something else.  Something more.

I want to hear your heart rise into your voice when you sigh
for the way the light falls, heavy with history.

I want to show you each brick strewn, each shaft toppled,
every fern and every sapling, growing or arching from crevice or what once once chimney and wall.

Then, I want to think with you on what was made here,
about each man who labored here; his name and face, his hands.

I want to walk with you, back along a pathway,
through a forest, greener than your eyes can bear to ever leave
again.







I