My last five posts of 2018 are reruns of five of the most viewed posts on this site during the year.
The Stone Remains Silent Even When Disturbed
In whose tongue
do you dream?
I fall closer to death
than birth, yet
the moon’s sliver
still parts the bare
branches and an unfilled
trench divides the
ground. Bit by bit,
we separate – you
remain in the earth,
recumbent, as I gather
years in stride.
Even the rain
leaves us alone.
O at the Edges 
Haunting but lovely
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Thanks, Jazz. More ghosts…
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That’s ironic, Robert. A recent poem of mine concerns stones as well. I liked yours very much.
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Thank you, Salvatore. Those stones!
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A lovely poem, stones are an amazing metaphor and you’ve personified them beautifully.
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Thanks, Holly!
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You’re welcome!
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lovely poem & lovely photo.
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Thank you, Elaine. The photo is from morguefile.com.
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but there is something
deep in a stone
that is never still
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That is what draws me to stone.
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