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Still Living the Stone Age

by Oonah V. Joslin

Perhaps it was the flight
that drew me to it
a piece of past to ground me
in the present
at 35 thousand feet..

Its little form fitted perfectly
an object found,
a talisman from nature
on beach or mountainside
as it used to be;
a guide and guardian against natural fears.

It warmed in my hand
proof of my living self and some
connection to the Palaeolithic
took hold.

I regarded the workmanship
smooth polished charm. Affection grew,
for its durability, more assured than mine,
comforted me as if it might rub off.

I held it to my breast as Aaron did
to nurture in me
a sense of adventure and security.

Its wings were static but not petrified
concentric circle bands of silicate
layered like toffee for a child
to suck.

It sits amongst others
jade square, amethyst obelisk, geodes, chunky rose
quartz, smoky heart, a pyramidal tiger’s eye,
malachite and soapstone Buddhas.

And I, who do not believe in luck,
can give you no excuses as to why
I should buy
a carnelian angel one inch high

except that reason seldom outstrips

Copyright © 2012 by Oonah V. Joslin

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