Ode to a Flat Black River RockYou fit perfectly in my hand.
You ask to be rubbed, more cat than rock. Once, by the sea, the girls and I gathered a bagful of your bigger sisters. We painted pictures on their obligingly flat sides. In our old backyard, two served as parakeet grave markers. You ask only to be held, stroked, and admired. She who gazes long and deep at your matte black face begins to see etched white networks, then clouds of stardust. Depths within depths, space between atoms, a history of the earth’s crust, a map of the cosmos. By Sheila Sondik Sheila is the winner of our third poetry contest! You can see her poem on display at the downtown co-op September 1st - end of November! Learn more about her work at: http://www.sheilasondik.com/
1 Comment
|