stacks of rocks

in the backyard again

man made stone walls

and stacks of rocks

and I know the man

who carried or rolled

each stone put into place

everything fits perfectly imperfect

leaves falling at and on my feet

and into this book

where thoughts take the form of words

all I know piles of words

everyday ones to describe

or legitimize this much thought

wishing to paint but it would probably

come out as words

might be the quickest way

for thoughts to inspire

colors changing daily now on trees

above the clouds move quick

below the blue in the race

to wherever they are going…