Skip to content
logo
  • Read
  • Comics & Cartoons
  • Videos
  • Submissions
    • General
    • Competitions
  • Membership
  • About Us
  • Log Out
  • Log In
  • Register
Search
Log In Register
logo
Search

Awry

By Francis Flavin
Symmetry of Stones

Illustration by Albert Nikhla

SYMMETRY OF STONES


It is a short climb to the shallow saddle beyond the ridgetop.

A row of stones begins at the base of the depression

And continues in a sinuous line over the rim and beyond.

The column borders a dirt trail that transects the rural landscape.

The surrounding land is arid and largely devoid of plant life.

Here and there sagebrush and small patches of cheatgrass

Provide enough food and cover to support lizards and snakes.

The terrain is crisscrossed by powerlines and fire roads.

The column brings order to the chaos of rocks and stones.

It establishes a sense of place in this high desert wasteland.

The omnipresent zephyr scours the hills of vegetation, but

The low barricade of stones is a buffer to the wind’s bite.

Snow accumulates in its lee, providing just enough moisture

To suckle an expanding population of grasses and flowers.



Last summer a hiker placed a handful of stones along the path.

In the months following people with a sense of symmetry

Would add a stone or two to the slowly growing column.

It now extends two ridges beyond the saddle of origin.

Not all who frequent the trail are enthralled with this effort.

Here and there swaths of stones have been kicked and scattered.

Vandals perhaps?

Certainly not children of neglectful parents –

The gaps are too wide, and too regularly spaced.



Self- anointed purists are a possibility.

But it is hard to discern how anyone could view this landscape,

Marked and marred by vehicle ruts and transmission lines, as “pristine.”

A struggle between creators and destroyers plays out in this rocky wasteland.

The symmetry of stones cannot escape the yin and yang of human nature.



Illustration by Albert Nikhla

BALIBAGO


Within the darkened barangay 

The whine of scooters and trikes,

And the salacious clamor of Fields Avenue,

Are replaced by the soft moans

of the lonely and homeless.

Smelling faintly of vegetation and lahar,

A gentle breeze falls from Pinatubo.

Moonlit trees form a spectral canopy

Over the narrow and empty streets.

Sifting through darkness,

The mind drifts without moorings,

As scattered thoughts escape,

To be swallowed by the night.




Share:

Posted On: November 6, 2023
← Previous
→ Next
  • Read
  • Comics & Cartoons
  • Videos
  • Submissions
    • General
    • Competitions
  • Membership
  • About Us
  • Log Out
  • Log In
  • Register
logo
  • Submissions
  • Terms & Conditions
  • About Us
  • Contact Us

Copyright © 2025 Half and One