Stone. It’s only stone.
A rock. Grit. Edgy as hell.
It can’t roll unless you push it.
It won’t stick unless you make it.
etching words, pictures drawn,
sunken stick forms, the unrequited.
when we don’t ever need to.
as light moves and breathes and eels,
yet the stone will always be.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for commenting :)