For Fran Poem by Jessica Claydon
For Fran
Mottled stone
from ancient forest
...fir trees as
living histories
of landscape.
Ancient stone
lifted from its place
warmed by human touch
joins other displaced testimonies
in the pocket of a traveler.
Airborne
Fingered
Warmed
...trying to remember
cool dampness of the
forest floor...
passes from
one to the other.
Token of a place unseen,
friendship becomes its name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:03:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
