#1033885 added July 3, 2022 at 8:50pm Restrictions: None
Kicking Toward A Quarry
Kicking stones. How’d I get here.
Is this cul-de-sac the end
Of Earth? Existence?
There’s a quarry ahead.
I could lift each stone, peruse,
Wonder if perfection exists —
How smooth, if the right fit
For my chucking hand,
Take aim at those other castoffs,
In retrograde, living in an aggregate,
A hole like purgatory.
How did I get here, wayward,
Mindless booting things further
Down a road called redemption?
I only see my prison lies ahead.
Well, better make the most of it.
Roll these sleeves down, haul stone.
I’ll examine each one, luck to find beauty
Where in my travels it seldom exists, and
Less obtainable, like the right rock to kick.
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