Stone Harbor
rocks: amalgam of minerals
condensed space, boulders of infinity
and pebble-like acuteness
temple builders
misbehaving polygons
companion of trees; envious
of light eaters, their spiraling wood centers
and the green
perplexity of veins
the philosopher’s hourglass
kinesthetic anchors
between the sphere’s smooth,
unfinished edges and the jagged
catastrophe of no ending
havens of pressure
harbor masters
jetsam of intransience, compressed
and scattered, weathered and beaten,
spit and shine
Amy Nawrocki 