In the green stretches of my farm
Someone long ago piled stones
Forming small pyramids at random points, no taller than a suitcase.
I dismantled one today, lifting the heavy stones one by one into a trailer to be taken away.
I worked carefully, each stone a part of a city,
Populated with small black beetles,
Spiders, lizards, and slugs.
As I lifted the last stones into the trailer
I found two small frogs
Their brown arms wrapped around each other, their bodies entwined.
It appeared as if they were lovers; in such terror at the destruction of their home
They found comfort in an embrace.
To me, however, as I stood above them vast and terrible, a stone in each hand
To me, they looked as if they had been sleeping
And as lovers sleep,
In a fond embrace.
It was a world of dreams and heartbeats
Each with eyes closed, mouths pressed together
Breathing the same air
A silent kiss, a love in this stone temple,
Safe from the world, witnessed only by the beetles
And now they were exposed to the world, to the rude white light
And a giant.
I scooped them up and placed them in the next pile of rocks and waited
Until they were inside
Safe from the world, from which they must hide.