The Rock

"The Rock"

The rock was what we called it.
Nestled in the corner of a field
Upon it, a deer hunter will sit.
His feet were too cold, to feel.

The rock sat there,day and night.
No one ever paid any attention.
Come across it in fading daylight
It's not even worth the mention

The rock's an important land mark.
A place where boundaries meet
The place to be just before dark
If the snow's under two feet deep.

This old rock, here longer than I.
It'll be here long after I'm gone.
So now, I'll have to say goodbye,
Until another wanderer comes along.

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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