Mushrooms, Splinters, and Thorns

Stones

On the narrow path west,
cool wind, fast moving Cirrus
high above the flat land
facing the pool,
as I walk
round about
the stone circle
like the Druids
administering spells
for the dark halves of my days,
listening to stories
stones tell
of beings that wilted away
due to overcrowding
inside such a tiny place,
my weed-covered flower bed
surrounded by stones.
My head lowered in shame,
I plead guilty.