Rocks rolled

(Sorting through stuff, I ran across some old memories…)

Out on the mountainside
There are lots of rocks.
The biggest one is named Ed.

Ed is a metamorphic rock.
He has changed over the years,
In the beginning he was hot stuff.

Life pushed him through some changes
Adding a few wrinkles along the way.
He became a strong granite,

Dark feldspar streaked with
A white quartz of contemplative purity
And a humorous glint of mica.

Ed rolled down the mountain
Bit by bit
As the world changed.

In later years he acquired several
Flavors of moss,
As most of us do.

Got kinda scraggly looking on top
During windy days.
But otherwise a sedate being.

As time passed along,
A spruce grew by Ed.
Mary was her name.

She knew when to sway in the breezes,
When to hold firm.
Mary was host to some years of fledglings.

During the big storms,
Ed and Mary stood together.
Other times, they stood alone.

She grew taller and fuller.
They both seemed fixtures
In the landscape.

The rains wore him down a little.
One year he weathered more than ever.
–Suddenly, he rolled downhill altogether.

And although Mary knew it had been coming,
And had viewed the slope for some time,
–It was still rather abrupt.

Ed had been such a part of the landscape.
His absence was just as dramatic
As his presence.

Now Mary stands
Without the rock named Ed.
And the raindrops gather
In the depression left behind.

3 Comments

  1. 12 February 2009 at 23:10

    What a great piece of poetry! Beautiful!

  2. 12 February 2009 at 13:43

    There are stones and then there are The Stones (and I am talking Rollright, not Rolling here)

    They do say that they go down to the stream to drink, and it is a magical place where heaven meets earth. (believed to be the site of a meteor)

    Before the Byrds (even the Yard variety) was Byrd.

    The Stones rock :)

  3. Fleecy said,

    11 February 2009 at 13:08

    Very visual. And kind of depressing. Poor Mary. Poor Ed? I wonder where he rolled off to. What’s at the bottom of the slope, I wonder?


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