Early on Thursday
a truck, toting a backhoe
arrived at the small, grey-blue house
to undo the ordinary cement patio.
As a jackhammer did its work,
jagged slabs of concrete loosened
for the backhoe to scoop up.
Heavy, stagnant,
the concrete did not bend or flex.
Awkwardly, the backhoe coaxed
each piece toward the waiting truck.
Beneath,
the earth took a deep, cleansing breath.
Shaking off the modern mantle,
the ground released woolen threads
from a tartan picnic blanket
that lay on this spot in 1942.
Ripe apples, waxy cheese and iced tea
scented the air
during a rare respite in wartime Washington, D.C.
The next breath
recalls the Union soldiers
who tramped through the light woods
toward nearby Virginia Seminary,
now a hospital for the wounded.
Drawing deep,
the earth protects a shell necklace
dropped 400 years ago
by a noble Algonquian.
Living in harmony
with mother earth,
the Algonquian understood
we are all visitors here.
A Reading Life 
There is SO much I love about htis poem.
A favorite line is: Shaking off the modern mantle
It perfectly describes the concrete driveway from the earth’s POV!
I love how you incorporate the history of your land, back to WWII, back to Civil War, back to the natives. So powerful.
Thanks for sharing. I’m so glad you continue to write poems.
There are poetry groups – have you joined one?
You might check out these 2 slicers who post poetry all year long.
Margaret – https://reflectionsontheteche.com/
Catherine – https://readingtothecore.wordpress.com/2021/04/01/national-poetry-month-writing-wild/
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This is beautiful. I love how you capture the breath of our planet and that is completely prevented by pavement. So true! Your creativity in depicting the history beneath the surface is unique- it makes me wonder and appreciate our own swatch of yard and what has happened here through the ages. I loved the thinking your piece inspired me to do. Thank you!
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