Poem by Stonehouse

Published May 8, 2020 by tindertender

After 57 years of nights beneath the moon and the clouds
to find myself old is hard
crows come looking for food at the altar
monks return with empty begging bowls
others work the waves for shrimp and clams
I swing a hoe in the mountains
when Solomon’s seal is gone there is still pine pollen
and one square inch free of care
~ Stonehouse


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