Stones which used to be Mountains

worn away by frequent seas


{eroding shores by an ocean’s undulating toll

Will it leave a sound-?-or will all be smitten

by the waves’ pitch and roll,

wearing me down, singing like a siren}


Broken windows in remarkable architectures,

gravel hurled injuring sick and dying edifices


{shattered skeletons by which rusty old panes ache

Will they come back to life-?-or will they crumble

like so much grey mortar

waiting on my grave, my ash like lime}


Substance of life saw so much when solid

now drips its thawing unwanted mobility, unrestrained


{once unique solitary patient glaciers

Will these tepid breezes not extinguish-?-yet hastened

towards the yawning mouth

which empts into the anonymity of the deeps}