Many Of Us Were Once Sheep Farmers

by Jim Tilley

I am reminded every time I walk the woods
alongside stone walls built a few hundred years ago,
still standing, mostly intact, fathers and sons
doing the heavy work of clearing the land of rocks
for pastureland to raise sheep when there was
an embargo on imported wool. And then, when
the need for homegrown sheep had passed, we moved
west to find arable land, the pastures reforesting
themselves, as they will do when left in peace.
Some we’ve managed to reclaim as nature preserves,
a practice that will soon die along with the trees
we need for lumber as steep tariffs are imposed
on wood imported from our once good neighbor
to the north. When we develop the land, we will
tear down those old walls whose only purpose was
to keep sheep penned in. We will gather the stones
and cart them away to build walls to keep people out.