There is a sculpture of a man.
He has evolved through
hammer, chisel, art.
Through each his stony feet and hands
there bubbles life that
flows from stony heart.
And grinding diaphragm I hear,
as from a baby’s
gravel-pit first breath;
a wheezing boulder overture:
the sculptor Darwin’s
banishment of death.
Tuesday 9th February, 2010
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Abiogenisis