Stonestacker Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

He lies on the footpath looking up
Admiring his handiwork stalagmites -
Pinnacles of beach rocks raised high
Composed of smooth stones super-glued together.
Does he see any more than you see
After you have finished your briefing paper
For the Minister or the plumber sees
After he stands back to admire his new tap fittings,
Or I see after I ‘finish' a writing and move on
Calmed, more content and self-satisfied
To a cup of coffee or to watch an old episode
Of Midsomer Murders or flick for sentimental reasons
To the Last of the Summer Wine -
Or perhaps hit Channel 89 'BBC World'
To get a gutful of saddening and sickening events?
That said, I drive my wife nuts looking for relevance
Trying to make a difference, trying to save the world:
‘Just relax', she says, ‘the world does not want to be saved'.
But is an inherent property of mankind
That we seek to create, to leave a legacy,
Conscious as we are of our limited lease
On life and the necessity or desirability
Of generativity and passing something down to posterity
'No stone unturned', as Moses would have said.
Who is to say then that the shoreline pinnacles
Do not represent something profound
And that their builder with his infinite care
Is not adjusting the very foundations to our benefit?