Over Stones

everything was about to break
only the wind knew their story
whitewash crumbs on fences
walnut leaves at the door sill
a shirt thrown on a scarecrow
hollow gutters sprinkling rain

the truth is far more simple
like salt grains on bread
on a hot day they gave bread rings and porridge
usually the road was dusty
but that day heavy whirls of dust
hit the garden’s gate
where she used to gather beans
with her hardened hands
dust balls rolled in the verandah
where a young lass was spinning wool
lads calling for a ring dance
snowy dust weighed
over dahlias and sweet basil
near the church where they baptized her

evening is cold stars are craggy
moonlight strikes like a knife
on the empty cellar lock
near the porch a dull scythe sways
a pitcher hangs in its rotten wattle
while the old man sweeps slower and slower
over the same stones
.

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Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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