Stone Faced Man

There was once a stone who lived in a hill

A beautiful hill

Near a flowing river

Every year the snow came

And buried him for a quiet winter

It was even peaceful

Every spring the snow melted

And covered him in mud

Rain came and washed him clean

Every summer birds rested on him

The sun warmed him

And flowers surrounded him

Every Autumn

Leaves and tree limbs fell on him

And he felt a chill in the air

No one knows really

At what point this stone

Became a stone faced man

I was hiking with a few friends this past summer and ran into this stone. It seems a bit unreal. More like a sculpture you’d see in an art museum; not something you see on the side of a path in the woods. I’m glad I was able to take a photo of it. Who knows what it will look like the next time I’m there.