Friday, February 17, 2012

slow



The rock moved two inches in two thousand years. It was a mover and a shaker, quite the rebellious thing at best. Once, five hundred seventy three years ago, the rock got stuck in a crevice. Over and under in between two others. Yesterday a strong wind blew, a surge of water pushed up and to the right. There was a slight shift. If you had not been watching closely you would have never noticed but you were and so was I.

It might take a moment in the form of nine hundred eighty four years for such a rock to acclimate, this being a new place with fresh exposure to the elements. There may be times at first, during the initial three hundred fifty six years, the rock will miss the crevice. We will never know. It will be the rock's secret.





I am grateful for new places,




but sometimes I miss the old ones.

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