Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The old granite quarry where
Boulders the size of elephants
Grazed in herds on red clay and sand.
Beached whales washed up on the shore
Of the lake-filled canyon formed unexpectedly
From an underground spring.
Crystalline water as pure as the dew drops
Affording a view of the bottomless pond.
Formidable and invitingly clear,
Cool and refreshing from summertime's heat.
Hovering battlements tall as the tree tops
Surrounding three sides with lake castle walls.
A child might imagine the parapets riding the crest
With cannon and catapult ready to fire.
The old stone quarry, deserted now.
How many stories do you have to tell?
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