He spoke of the standing stones
Foundations upon which he continued to build
As his family had done for generations
Each laborer in lands where
They had been made to labor making
The footing all the firmer
Though there is much yet to do
And I and far away from the stones laid down
By those who bore those who bore me
Blown about again and again by winds that
Sometimes fair
Still have sent me on an uncertain course
A leaf erratic
Or a small seed that still has not found the soil
Into which to grow
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