Masons laid up the basalt for the cottage walls.
Between smoke breaks and beer the skeleton
grew sideways first, then a chimney spine and vertebrae.
The breathing started later–
rasping at first,
then smooth sighs,
finally growling at the end
when the whole thing came down in an earthquake
a hundred years later.
Earth eyes looked up from below
through the masons beer bottle glasses
peering through the rubble
and moldy fever dreams
of a hundred years of nighttime wanderings.