Some of her fields think they're in the Rocky Mountains
She takes the wheelbarrow out to gather rocks
To cobble the driveway
They tell her she can't cobble the world
But she tries
It's a lifetime hobby
Because the first rocks she placed years ago
Have settled back into the mantle
And there's no end to the supply
A flash flood brought her treasures
From the Magdelena foothills
She's always been a rockhound
Looking down instead of up
She scrutinizes rocks
No jasper or turquoise in her driveway
But the cobbles sparkle in the rain
Better than the mud that preceded them
She'll add some staurolites with mica and garnets
Not yellow brick, her road
Will glitter like Dorothy's ruby slippers.