Hadrian's Legacy

Hadrian's Legacy

 

Green hills roll, carved out by rambling walls,

the stones black with moss

feet sink deep into the thick grass, sodden

with centuries of rain.

 

A gravel road weaves its way around clusters of trees,

pastures spattered with multi-coloured sheep,

dappled with red and blue dye.

 

Cars hurtle past on the adjoining highway,

slitting past the stones and sheep.

But besides their whir it is quiet.

 

Calm and a sense of wonder

hangs heavy from the clouds,

and curiosity, a thirst for knowledge seeps through the pores

of all the tourists,

enticing profound thoughts, questions, and theories

out of the mottled stones

of great ancient empires:

emperors, dictators, military strategists,

that we still study today,

 

as American children

we travel thousands of miles to see these stones

that really just look like a bunch of rocks,

but with history as green as the pastures.

 

Two thousand or so years ago,

Emperor Hadrian felt uncomfortable having the savage Scots and barbaric northern Brits

so close to his soldiers

so they built a wall

and he felt better.

They're all dead now

but the stones remain to separate sheep