Chance Or Design Poem by Francie Lynch

On the Shadow today,
Enjoying the ride,
I passed a hillside
With stones, spelling out:
Sarnia Nudist Camp
In bright white letters,
Legible from a distance.
How did they come
To be there?
Did the frost push them up
Through the earthly womb
To birth this message
For the reading pleasure of passers-by?
Did the camp director create
This hillside billboard?
I've heard, at nightime, the stones
Gleam under a constant moon
That radiates above any notion of chance.