Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Poem: April 28, 2019

Topography

I've been mining the same hills
for four months now, longer even,
but never with such conviction,
unearthing shiny stones, one
much the same as another, and
placing them in my pockets.

They might be valued in certain
contexts, but mostly the reward
is local, defined by the limits of
my personal radius. My stones.
My collection. My scratched and
dusty headlamp and my daily
shoveling never far from home.


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