Geodes
–Jared CarterThey are useless, there is nothing
to be done with them, no reason, onlythe finding: letting myself down holding
to ironwood and the dry bristle of rootsinto the creekbed, into clear water shelved
below the outcroppings, where crawdads spurtthrough silt; clawing them out of clay, scrubbing
away the sand, setting them in a shaft of lightto dry. Sweat clings in the cliff’s downdraft.
I take each one up like a safecracker listeningfor the lapse within, the moment crystal turns
on crystal. It is all waiting there in darkness.I want to know only that things gather themselves
with great patience, that they do this forever.
Photo by Justin Kauffman on Unsplash