Sunday, June 9, 2013

Arrow heads

I used to look
for arrow heads here
Among the reeds
and weeds and fireweed
Always mistaking
chips of stone
For the real deal
The bits of rock chipped off
The mountain side
Where quarry men worked
Night and day
To build the city
At the foot of the mountain
One rising as the other fell
So that when the cliff
Above it vanished,
The name Cliff Town
Lost all meaning,
But still I feel it
Hovering above me
Giving shape to my existence
Even if invisibly
A powerful force
Even progress cannot destroy
Chipped away in the real world
Only to rise again
Inside of me
An indelible icon

I cannot live without.

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