Dead Stone Poem by Hugh Joseph Curran
Dead Stone
Rating: ★5.0
DEAD STONE
There is no sound like a dead
stone falling into
a dead well, falling into a season
of pollen floating where pilgrims dip
up muddled remedies:
plasters for boils
and open sores, holy water
for curing insanity;
new life in springs percolating
up through a whirlpool of dead matter,
such is the secret life of believers
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: elegy
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5/4/2024 6:40:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
secret life of believers - a wonderful write! i can't wait to read more. - EN