From here stones were drawn
for the ruin in the distance,
stones for walls fallen
and falling, for cottages

empty and roofless
along this road,
for fences holding

the gate to the lane.
Cattle and sheep graze
its brink as they grazed

the centuries gutted.
But now comes by night ñ
who used to steal slate ñ

the man in new guise.
Dead cars and garbage
- what costs to dispose of ñ

are what he brings back here,
signs of abundance,
the colourful tumble

of rubbish down scree of
black-gray. Will earth here
as sea has, as history

has, develop a taste
for, develop a stomach
to take it and eat it
digesting even its name?

Linda McCarriston teaches at the University of Alaska and has published two award-winning collections in the United States: Talking Soft Dutch (1984) and Eva-Mary (1991). Salmon Poetry published Little River: New & Selected Poems in early 2000.