Poetry

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A PLACID LAKE IN A DISTANT LAND SOME ROCKS RECLINE THEY CAN REST
AT EASE,MORE ABOVE THAN BELOW THE WATER'S EDGE THEIR SILENCE WEAR
THEIR RUGGED AGE,AS IF THEY KNEW THEIR AEONS STAGE THEIR SIZES
SPEAK THROUGH RESTED SLEEP,CLOSE TOGETHER LIKE A FAMILY GROUP ALL
KINDS OF WEATHER WHATEVER,AND STANDING STILL THEREIN ONLY STORIES
THEY COULD TELL,HOW AGES WENT WHEN TIME WAS SPENT ROCKS DON'T WONDER OR HAVE A NEED TOO PONDER,THEY NEED NOT MOVE TIME SHOULD
APPROVE,AT WATER'S EDGE THEY COULD WELL PLEDGE TIME WON'T FROWN
AND ROCKS CAN'T DROWN,WATER MAY EBB AND FLOW AND ROCKS DO KNOW HOW
AEONS GO,THEY MAY WELL SAY AMEN AGO;GOD BLESS FROM ROCKSWHO ALWAYS KNOW,BROWN RED AND INDIGO.
Joe.

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