Lore

Cabin

Sometime Before 1850

Your brick bits,
dinnerware shards
and clay pipe
fragments
bleed down
a hillside
in the far field
family tradition names
The Old Taylor.

Wagon ruts
to the spot
wash away
in the woods
a bit more
each year.

Were you named
Taylor
or,
less likely,
a tailor?

We’re connected
by word
of your absence.

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