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I am limestone
A flaky formation under a bridge
In a large town in New Jersey out of sight of the skyline
I watch time slip by in days and in years
A trickling stream most of the time runs me by
But now there is draught and it is gone
Sometimes at night I have visitors
When the sun rises it reflects off of broken glass
Shattered amongst my fellow stones
Sometimes I see needles, sometimes sleeping bodies
Usually alone, often dirty
The lonely people that come here
If I could speak I would try to comfort them
Let them know they aren’t alone
A few summers ago police came and took one of them away
He was limp and broken looking as they dragged him off
I watched him go and wondered where he would end, where he had come from, what he had done
I am surrounded and nestled amongst thousands like me
We are all aware of each other and yet cannot share a solitary thought or emotion
I have been here a long time, years and years, and surely will for many years more
It is lonely being a stone when there is nothing to do and you watch dying spirits burying themselves all the time
Maybe one day a kid will pick me up and put me in his pocket
I would like that, and maybe I would be thrown or dropped someplace new and exciting
The hope of a stone may seem like no hope at all
But it speeds the days
And since I’m awake
I may as well hope
After all
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Truth is peace. We are all souls in bodies.
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