The rock on the seashore
does not know
her own history,
whether she is part of the mountain
or the upward thrust of the earth
or the sticky flow of sea=pain.
Gulping oxygen,
vomiting carbon dioxide,
sipping water,
every pore filled with shells,
every muscle filled with waves,
every bone full of sand,
shows her the dreams
that living things see.
How come she knows
she is not alive?
