I called it archeology
because the big word made my mouth feel good;
helped the two years between us shorten
and stand small, but strong next to the millennia.
Together we learned how the stones were cooked and bent and compressed:
Igneous,
Sedimentary,
and Metamorphic.
Only wet rocks show their true colors.
In the backyard we took hammers to granite
smashing our way through a molten backstory.
These days I steal beach rocks by the pocketful.
And sometimes, when I know nobody's watching
I'll spit on them,
think wistfully of hammers,
and remember who they really are.
done for poetry potluck week14
Nice poems! I love taking rocks from the beach as well, they are simply beautiful :)
ReplyDeleteI read another rock post earlier and my comment will be the same, "I love a good stone." Especially river stones..
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of how you look at the rocks today to remember earlier times. Cute and effective.
ReplyDeletehttp://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/ice-cream/
wow,
ReplyDeletewhat an equation.
love your creativity here.
well done.
A+
Glad to see you in...
ReplyDeletevisit a few near your own entries, enjoy the fun reading..
:)