Monday, July 3, 2017


Letter To The Next Landowner

You won’t keep it up like we did

Not to worry — we did it for a half century

The stone hut, the sturdiest looking, will go first

I built it for our son — earth to earth

The house we re-built from ground to ridge

All the time it made the most perfect sense

A minister and his wife owned the house before we did

He not only sold us the house, he married us

The land was cut & mowed & planted & moved & loved

Every day of our lives, but don’t believe it

The land will tell you —

We are buried here

Our bones are the stones to be found

Wait for the wind

She & Me

She even stands with

me when I pump

the gas


About two minutes of a steady rowing mating call

Out of a blossoming apple tree —

Then the deadliest silence imaginable

Earned Hermitage

Shunned by

nearly everyone

on the road


Bob Arnold


Anonymous said...

"Letter To The Next Landowner" doesn't need to be powerful or great or anything but what it is and I just had to share it at word pond.


Bob Arnold / Longhouse said...

Many thanks, Donna!

We hiked up to an abandoned farm today we remember as a home and farm buildings — now
all gone. Not a shred of homestead anywhere, not even a broken pane of glass.

No poem.

all's well, Bob

Anonymous said...

still our best hope, methinks, not to abandon these interrelationships, not yet hopeless . . . -Donna