Poem: Boulder In the Woods

 

Boulder in the Woods

 

slumped and shabby and

lopsided with lichen

over a puddle of brown water

where larvae jackknife

among rotted flecks,

 

you chronicle and sentinel,

for the forest has deputized you,

not the rubble that litters sterile planets,

or a stone delitescent in the abyss,

no,

you are entrusted

with the last remains of trees and leaves and

bushes and berries in windy sprays

and rain and feathers and bones and 

nests in mossy beds. 

 

there’s a hint of warm-bloodedness

when morning slips through,

braving a gauntlet of serpentine limbs

to preen your medullar cape.

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