Words: The Erratic






The Erratic

Stamp the clay off your shoes!

Stand on the stone on the hill

where once the old pine stood.

This is holy ground, this boulder,

this plough-breaker. Remember

the ice that brought it here,

remember the long melt. You stand

on a rise at the bottom of the sea.

The clay on the bottom of your shoes

settled in those depths.

Remember the glacial wind.

Let the wind today purify

your winter skin. Let tears

open your eyes to the tears

in the ground. 

April prompt #17

April prompt #17

If you were not a 21st century American, what else or who else might you have been?

David’s #1

I might have been

an erratic stone,

purple and gray,

carried from the shield

in a belly of ice,

resting now

between trees

on a mountain,

the mosses

layering thickly

on my skin.