From December 31, 2011
Is there a wrong way
To look at what this is?
May I see a haunted face
And wonder at the haunting?
A lonely face and
Wonder who is not here?
A hungry face
And feel shame,
For I have offered nothing?

This is a stone with holes
That suggest to me face.
It is a mother stone like so many others
On this beach.

Mother stones:
They all have faces
They all tell stories
They all wait to be found
They all beckon.

All suggest a miracle
In their cry
And the silence.

One Single Impression