Rich, glistening, egg-like. A pleasure to see them this morning.
STONEGo inside a stoneThat would be my way.Let somebody else become a doveOr gnash with a tiger's tooth.I am happy to be a stone.From the outside the stone is a riddle:No one knows how to answer it.Yet within, it must be cool and quietEven though a cow steps on it full weight,Even though a child throws it in a river;The stone sinks, slow, unperturbedTo the river bottomWhere the fishes come to knock on itAnd listen.I have seen sparks fly outWhen two stones are rubbed,So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;Perhaps there is a moon shiningFrom somewhere, as though behind a hill--Just enough light to make outThe strange writings, the star-chartsOn the inner walls. --Charles Simic
Thank you, Mim. It would have been hard not to photograph them after yesterday's rain. They looked to me like small stone boats - or beetles.
Hello TimothWhat a stunning poem this is -and how perfect. I especially love the last lines - '... Just enough light to make outthe strange writings, the star-charts on the inner walls.'Thank you. And thanks to Charles Simic. I think I might have to dig out a prose poem I wrote a couple of years ago, titled "It depends how you look at it." It takes the reader into the inner landscapes of a stone, in a way not unlike CS has here, and ends with the words 'There is a universe inside a stone... ' I'd say we agree on this.
Yes! I remember the poem now.No wonder CS's poem, when I found it this morning after seeing your images, seemed so familiar. I had your wonderful piece in my memory, without exactly remembering it.Great minds . . .
On reflection, Tim - might it not be possible to be tiger, dove and stone?