Taking a break from carrying lumber
he calls me onto his lap.
“This is where our pond will be someday,” D says.
I picture my ancestors in these woods,
hunting squirrels and burying their glass bottles.
Green surrounds us. I listen
to the tapping woodpecker, the chattering
cardinals, the water flowing in this gully.
We are pioneers:
clearing the trees,
pouring the foundation,
raising the walls ourselves.
Like my great-great-grandparents
we build our hopes
into this piece of land.
I can’t feel the baby moving inside yet
but our little one will grow up here
hunting toads, picking daffodils,
and opening gifts.
D’s arms wrap around me
and I thank God we both
have found a stable