Stones and people start out soft,
but harden quick ,
learn to have lots of layers
packed like index cards,
some of them onyx,
or rubies sequestered deep.
they absorb and crust over
the most toxic lies unscathed,
but sand and foam gnaw,
those relentless whispers of time,
and so it seems that ages pass,
and maybe they do,
but stones and people wake only rarely
when some cataclysm falls.
their life is over before they even know;
and yet they watched
as countless other beings, every day,
eroded into remnants to die.
Chris Crittenden has a PhD in philosophy and writes from a tiny fishing village, 50 miles from the nearest traffic light. He blogs as Owl Who Laughs.