Of Moss And Stone.. Poem by Connetta Jean
Of Moss And Stone..
Her ashes
sleep in a box
resting upon
her poems,
For her life
has become
like moss
on stone...
The date upon
her mossy tomb
says many things....
for now
a century
has passed
and soon
it will be longer...
a small window
sits open...
For creatures
big and small,
to visit...
reading the words
her pillow speaks
within the silence....
time moves slow
once it matters
not more....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 8:00:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
