Love Like Rocks

Respect the rocks, the way they hold
themselves down, though from the point
of view of geese, the nimbo-

cumuli (their bulky white counter-
parts) drift like icebergs at sea
in the sky. Below

these sunset-catching cliffs, tiger-
lilies also face fire, stalking
and lolling around

unpainted pickets. Lawns
ruffle their pheasant feathers;
uncatchable quarry, snakes

in the blades blaze by. Since hiss
they must, upon proving too loose
for muddy trousers, they hint

now near, now thither, while all
is always about to give, given to
darkling cliffs of shifting cloud. O

God, my love is my rock,
my weight, said St. Augustine,
my Venusian even on deserted

nights, super-sub-urban,
like bright orbits bound by them-
selves to plunge, however small, however far.

Copyright © 2007 Stephen Massimilla All rights reserved
from Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission