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Stacking Stones

Usually I am indifferent

Along this wooded path

Never taking much notice

Of the clumsy stacking of stones

By the anxious and overwhelmed

A self-soothing ritual

For the purpose of reflection

Mindfulness a trendy

Respite from apprehension

I prefer the undisturbed

A veristic placement

Of the chaos of nature

But this cairn differs

From most compositions

Someone has discovered

A massive block

Quarried hewn abandoned

Apparently useless

Over a century ago now

Overtaken by moss and lichens

And placed upon it

Five stones imperfectly

Chiseled round by glaciers

Spaced asymmetrically singly

And one upon another

At a particular moment

You will see if you are patient

The soft morning light

Illuminate the sculpture

In green chiaroscuro

Whatever the motivation

It is beautiful

Unexpectedly a comfort


David Sapp, writer, artist, and professor, is a Pushcart nominee. His work appears widely in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. His publications include chapbooks Close to Home and Two Buddha, a novel Flying Over Erie, and a book of poems and drawings titled Drawing Nirvana.

Categories

Poetry, The River

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