Reunion

I SHALL come back to walk these fields again
And smell warm earth fresh-furrowed by the plow,
Unseen by those who’ll say they own them then,
Just as I say I am the owner now.
I shall come back to see if walls still stand
And how the little, seedling pines have grown,
What care is taken of the mowing land,
How full the well beneath its cap of stone.
I shall come back with others who have tilled
These same old fields and watched the corn grow tall,
Who know the fragrance of dim mows well filled
And wood smoke on a morning in the fall.
I can be sure that, on some future day,
I shall come back, because, no matter where
My worn-out body may be laid away,
The rest of me will be too homesick there.