Silt
a golden shovel, after Adelaide Simon’s “Panther”
The way of the world is slow but sure. Silt
gives in to freefall, lets itself go where water is
bound, down, ever down, and in its falling
remembers the stone it was, hard and
unyielding, until the glaciers spread, the
wind roared, and finally, finally, river
carried what was left. Silt knows life grinds
us into what we were meant to be, slowly
and fiercely tearing at all that held us down.
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