Fine Art Department Awards
Poetry Best of Class: Lauren de Vore “Three Stone Steps”
Three stone steps are all that’s left
Of the house that once stood
In the shadow of the massive oak.
Then a portal from haven
To wild wood, three lone steps
Now lead nowhere but up to down.
Lichen-spotted, moss-mortared
Into the grassy bank, they give no clue
To the house builder, the stone setter,
No hint what felled the house
And erased all sign of habitation
Beyond their own mute presence.
But the oak, the ancient oak knows,
And with each breeze it whispers
The tale the stones cannot tell.
Leaves rustle. Flying things flit
Through dappled light. I listen. I hear.
Ah, if only I spoke the language of trees.
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