"Something There Is That Doesn't Love A Wall." So says Robert Frost. So listen up my Elizabeth, you might be Cherokee, or could be Chocktaw or Chicasaw, but "let that frozen ground swell up under my wall, let it fling stones to the ground." I want a gap through which I can enter your world. So Elizabeth Duty, tell me the names of your mother and father, "spill the boulders into the sun", and I a good great-great-great granddaughter will be. That wall will become a path over which we both shall trod --- you leading the way, me placing stones where I shall follow.