Year Of Stone

the immortal baker drops us in the pan
sweat from his brow, impurities and swirls
makes us low and small, sweet and salt
smiling some and others grim
for me now a year of stone
a mist on basalt granite stirred
we’re all flying
we’re all flying
smooth and slick with water
grown over with clean moss
the lives of lichen
very meaning of
they sing — did you know?
tumbling and singing
freezing and flourishing
i greet my sun and flash alive
my year of stone

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