Literature
Tiny Giving
Stones slumber under rushing water,
Shaped by current cemented by time,
Onyx spots that sunlight conquers,
Brings me into the river to dive,
Hands are full of worthless pebbles,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Greener grass is fostered by the fence,
Where barbed wire was laid by hand,
Wood rots where the chicory grows,
Brings me to rusty metal and I bend,
Scraped fingers stain blue flowers,
Still I offer them to you,
Eyes are full of wonder,
I will do what I can do.
Telephone poles watch us walking,
Piled by men but worn by rain,
Tar glistens as it drips down,
Brings me to their
