Whaaaaatt, I LOVE this poem! I had to share.
From the Wild People
Time used to live here.
It likes to find places like this
and then leave so quietly
that nothing wakes up.
Whenever a rock finds what it likes
it hardly ever changes. Oh, rain
can persuade it or maybe a river
Out looking around. But that’s the exception.
They say there was a time when
rocks liked to dance. You can see
where that happened – great piles
of old partners that got tired of each other.
Now and then one stirs when nobody
is looking: Then it stops and looks away
humming a little tune. In the mountains
you can see those nonchalant rocks.
Some of them should have stopped sooner –
they’re haggard old wrecks, friendless,
and often just slumped around wherever they fell.
– William Stafford