No rush for this Mt Rushmore.
No precedent for these presidents,
Stacked and bundled together,
Layered stories of once-bodies, Paiutes in stone implying Medicine far beyond this narrow view.
Ancient paintings of some long past Picasso in rock, profiles in red of the red man,
the long-gone man, the primal man, the earthling (semi) permanent man, the walks-in-silence man and the never was-man at all
What river was this, now frozen, carving this edifice, this work of water, the legacy of water
the after-image of water in stone,
the message of water in the timeframe of water
the humor and play of water
earth makes diatoms and earth has made this….
…..is still making this, as
water is making this body today and tomorrow…
an orange river ripples and flows through my veins, marking time
in the orange rock, down the canyon of shards, the fallen, the incomprehensible
display of a random, egalitarian past
I am made again by this, preliminary, unformed,
uninformed of my place in this petrified library
The ground resounds with
the echo of an impossible stillness
as inexorable forces far beyond our comprehension
shape our lives