Grindstone

When I am

no longer

my spirit

will walk along these paths

of rustling leaves

like a silent breeze

through times forgot

I will splash

along the water edge

and feel the wet sand

ooze between my toes

I will collect clams

on a sunny day

and listen to twigs

snap under my toes

as I scurry up the lawn

towards the smell of

hamburgers on the grill

I will watch the soft glow of sunset

ember the sky

above the silhouette of the islands

and listen to

the buzz of crickets

as trees turn to shadows

in the evening breeze

and listen to ravens

caw in the morning sun

i will never leave you Grindstone

my spirit will moan with the wind

and rush through the trees

and my spirit will lie

forever timeless

in the calm

of a summer afternoon

Copyright Eric Wasiolek 1987