A Thousand Mossy Stones

The remaining light,

of these final days,

slips in through cracks,

whether glints or rays.

A thousand mossy stones,

I piled them high.

This cairn around me,

has eaten my sky.

Some day, some time,

the moss will mix

with this decay of mine.

The cairn’s keystone,

final and fixed.

© CGT, 2018.

3 Comments on “A Thousand Mossy Stones

  1. I had moss on the brain today, so am officially ‘liking” it now. My mind is a museum of paintings; you have a whole permanent exhibit.


Talk to me.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: