Song for Moab dreamers and rocks

Here the soil is red, the color of blasted brick, the grass gone mostly gold with tufts of green.

It is all tough in fact, the earth, the look of sheer resilience.

For though it implies permanence we know what a ruse that is,

still it is fun to pretend we will always be here too.

That we could be as tough as that, this soil and rock, that there is no way we could be removed from it.

That we are one and many at the same time, that we might last.

Categories: poetry, writing


8 replies

  1. The ruse of permeance. Quite poetic!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. There’s an odd comfort in realizing that, though the rocks will outlast us, they too will pass in their time.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes that erosion thing is a trip, what it does to our shapes, all of us in different ways right? Thanks for reading Christopher and greetings from this rock I’m sitting on now, in Moab.


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