the following poem was written for an online poetry class in response to this image and question:
"What do the stones at the river's edge know?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The first stone knows hunger~ not the kind that bends the spine, but the hollow where the soul forgets it once was full. The second stone knows fire. It sits in the sun, mute witness to every spark that ever burned a name into the dark. The third stone knows laughter~ the kind that shakes loose from a throat like coins spilled on a beggar’s plate. The fourth stone knows waiting~ the patient kind, the slow carving of hope, drop by drop, year after year, soft as held hands.
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