Pencil Stubs Online
Reader Recommends


 

Petrified Wood

By John I. Blair

For as long as I recall
Iíve had a chunk of stony wood
Reclining on my windowsill.

It has the tortured look
Of flesh thatís seen
Heat, cold, damp, rot,

Yet it stays the same,
As hard as any boulder,
Older than the hills.

I can detect the layers
Of the cycling years,
See scars left by insects

Or what moved and ate
In that hateless time.
But unlike living wood

This survivor stays cool,
Perfect in its imperfection,
Past tears, past giving.

©2004 John I. Blair  

Refer a friend to this Poem

Your Name -
Your Email -
Friend's Name - 
Friends Email - 

 

Reader Comments

Post YOUR Comments!
Name:
Email:
Comments:

Please enter the code in the image above into the box
below. It is Case-Sensitive. Blue is lowercase, Black
is uppercase, and red is numeric.
Code:

Horizontal Navigator

 

HOME

To report problems with this page, email Webmaster

Copyright © 2002 AMEA Publications