A Fourth Mile Down

A fourth mile down 

From the pond that never held water 

Is a little white farmhouse 

Fading in the Missouri wind 

The last testament of heirs 

Who fought until they could not 

For the dead cannot hold court 

Nor upkeep a home 

A fourth mile down 

From the pond that never held water 

Is a great sea of green 

That glimmers in the afternoon sun 

The eye that squints against the glare 

Would never see the foundations 

Of the fortune that burned away 

Not so long ago 

But the dust remembers 

What man does not 

A fourth mile down 

From the pond that never held water 

Is a forlorn cemetery 

Nestled in the hedgerow 

And silent in the shale 

A tree lies on its side 

Bearing the indent of a rope 

That tore a family apart 

A fourth mile down 

From the pond that never held water 

Is a little field of cattle 

Too many heads 

Too little ground 

And every winter night another 

One goes to the thicket 

To find the great green prairie 

That lies waiting on the other side 

It is a fourth mile down 

From the rest of the world 

The pond the rich man dug 

In the sandstone shale 

Little care is given 

To the mark of hubris 

The little brown circle 

In the wet times is ringed in mud 

And in the dry by a cracked halo 

Many wings and fins have touched 

But never will they stay 

Just quiet willows 

What witnesses they are