I sat on the rock,
With the statue of Robert Frost,
And thought.
I laid on the stone,
With the metal cutout of Emily Dickenson,
And cried.
If you go to Amherst Massachusetts, there is a town where my father grew up. Within that town there is a rock and a stone with two silhouettes of famous poets, Robert Frost and Emily Dickenson, having a conversation. I sat in on their talk, and while they said nothing, I feel wiser because of it.
