Standing Stone
by Lydia Harris
Picture it unborn, in flight,
wheeling, what can it see?
What squats in its memory
along the lines and striations of its skin?
What shadows to be felt
on our finger tips?
Scar of a path pitted
all points north.
The stone’s shadow
tilts us into the one blue sky.
Listen for its shrubby crust
its dry lobes scrambling
| Stone poems by Lydia Harris | |
|---|---|
| A Fishy Tail | Story by Selina Hardisty |
| How to pray the stone beads | Poem by Lydia Harris |
| if you lose the stone what will happen | Poem by Lydia Harris |
| Sentinel Stone | Poem by Lydia Harris |
| Standing Stone | Poem by Lydia Harris |
| Stone's first day at school | Poem by Lydia Harris |
| The Quoybirse stone blunders into the house | Poem by Lydia Harris |