Often I think 

About the stout Ponderosa

And the eroding Sandstone.

These are beings

Who personify patience.

They have wills 

And yet they cannot walk 

Away from their problems. 

They are rooted in place. 

Frozen, burned, washed out. 

Every moment they endure,

Have endured before 

We took our first breath,

And will endure 

After we take our last. 

What does consciousness 

Mean to someone not human? 

How does time pass? 

What does it mean to be cut down 

So that the species survives? 

What beauty might one see 

Stuck in one spot? 

What ugly might turn pretty 

Being that’s all you had? 
Say we perish,

And they take over,

Would that be all bad

For this rock? 



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allets's picture



Human v virus - virus could rid us of the rock. Someday.



Sky's picture


Hopefully later rather than sooner. 

We'll just keep writing 'til there's nothing left to write.

We'll just keep waiting 'til they read all our works left to right.