With passing of breaths I could only boulder by,
Allowing the time to pass over
My uneven exterior of flesh worn thin
As if rock being smoothed away,
By burning droplets of clear and tranquil water.
This is how I slowly passed hours,
Simply bouldering by the long hot summer days
On the moss covered porch and steps,
While shadows flicker under what light eyes perceive,
Unable to leave their own ways,
Keeping company as I too boulder the time,
Until we’re smoothed to gritty dust.
(c) Bret Sears – 2010