That Stone Confounds Us
Poetry by Tod Robbins
Why do we trap you in a box?
Why do we trap you in a box?
As if you were ever held by walls in life!
This capsule is an affront
To the tabernacle of flesh,
Merely practical to deposit your remains.
I will not be buried in a tiny home
for my bones.
Instead
Place my stiffness in raw earth and then a stone.
To remember me is to return me to my Mother,
To rest a short while with the worms and beetles,
God’s lilies as my crown.
That stone confounds us
That stone confounds us
We, the postmodern,
see the chocolate swirls
on geologic time,
not what once showed on its face.
Eons and ages passed until
farm folk held that smooth stone
near fields, forests, wells, and mines.
That stone confounds us,
discomposes our art,
stuns our texts,
our present.
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