GWYNETH

ROOTED TO THIS PLACE

Few people in this day of living with the Internet, high-speed cars, and the worldwide economy can claim roots like Patrick Cormier. He is living in the house that his great- great grandparents built and on property that was settled before Alexander became a town. Here, he expresses in free verse his feelings about this place.

The land is calling me.

That tender slice of tuckered prosperity.

The harvest brimming in sweet seclusion.

Tilled by hands.

Passed down to test the times.

Cleared and grown.

Gone, coming again.

What heart will have it?

Whose sweat will wear it?

This source of resilient names.

These halls of familiar faces.

I beat the blood of a weathered many.

I breathe my turn.

I touch my face.

I feel their faces.

Through secret gardens,

That behold feathered patches of generations.

I have found the footsteps of home.

For this is them.

This land is me.

A space -- for us.