with sullen glances
they tolerate
our indiscretions,
the flitting trees
and fickle wind,
sitting silently
in communion
with comets
shot across the sky
 
the stones do not
speak any more
to blighted beings
lost in motion.
They wait
and sing
their hymns
of sacred sorcery –
transforming layer
by layer
this simple rock
forgotten in the
sandy bay
of hesitant stars
and certainty

first published in Songs of Eretz Review

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