The Field is Gone: A New Poem by Mark Hutton

The field is gone, buried beneath future
Rubble of convenience and commerce.
Stalks that once drew bird and game
Draw gamers and the budget minded.

It wearies a memory to replace
What is here with what once was.
Natural overcome, replaced with synthetic.
Creation’s groaning is nearly audible.

I have no right to chatter,
It was a borrowed field.
The farmer passed on his debts.
Someone must pay. So the land and memory do.

Bio: Mark Hutton lives with his family in the mountains of Tennessee (USA). He is a writer, poet, avid blogger (intheperpetualruins.com) and clergyman. His writing ranges from fiction to theology/spirituality, farms and food to justice and conservation. Most days he can be found writing and consuming too much coffee or out in the woods.