The Stone
I am a rock,
solid, a monolith,
standing still,
quiet, cool to the touch
even in high summer.
Wind doesn't bother me,
nor rain or snow or hail.
Only in my aloneness,
in my silence, in the dead
of night can you
hear me weep.
September 25, 2009
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 834 times
Written on 2009-10-12 at 01:47
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