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.
This first appeared in December 2015.
O at the Edges 
Death has taken on new hues, contours since losing my son – “closer to death than birth” seems somehow desirable, death no longer seeming an end, just a transition (perhaps to something better). Meanwhile, I love pondering whether stones are really silent or simply inaudible to human ears …
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Death took on new meaning after my surprise heart attack nearly eight years ago. It never seemed close before then, but now it looms (but not malevolently) ahead. I like to think of stones as recordings that we just can’t hear. 🙂
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