If this is ugly I don’t really
Wanna know. But I want to
Ask you why you chose to
Photograph those stones over
And over, those stones with
The round pictures on them
Those pictures that are faded
With time, and time is
Multiplied there as if those who
Live there never age, and
Stay the same because one
Can’t see them as they are
Hidden as they are silent as
They don’t need to eat or sleep
Or celebrate birthdays and
When you remember to go it’s
Because you feel that wind, the one
That you felt that time that you
Couldn’t get dressed for weeks
But the wind there was familiar and
You knew they, they were there and you
Couldn’t talk to them, thought the
Moss on the stones outside kept
Growing humbly and and