STONEWhen you say “that which endures”you speak of a stonein the park where we livedthat summer before the accidentIn that park there lived a stonewhose granite face was your face,whose sacred eyes were your eyes,whose body sang of your bodygathering the sun to it::The stone of your bodyWe lived in our stone for many yearsuntil the woodcutters cameand hacked away the treesBroken branches leaned brokenlybeneath metal teethBut the stone remained a stoneYour eyes were still youThere were no other gods before youEven in the fields your wilderness,the stone enduredEven now in the empty fields your wilderness,the stone endures.