The family rock

by Shawn Smith- June 26, 2007

Behind the old house
rested a single, solitary rock

It sat on top of
the electrical power meter

Mom called it
"the family rock"

"Never remove that rock from its place,"
Mom warned us

We picked it up and stroked its smooth surface,
but we always returned it to its resting place

Drops of white and red paint clung to its surface,
a reminder of when the old house was red and white

Things, in those days, had meaning,
there was stability

Now, the old rock
has been removed from its place of rest

Tossed into a field of forgetfulness,
a faint remembrance of happier times

Now the rock resides only in my mind,
distorted memories of long ago

It weeps for its former abode
"Put me back, put me back," it cries

I rummage through the field adjacent to the old house
trying to find that lost rock

Hoping, praying to reclaim
that which was lost

Hearing its voice crying out to be found,
but unable to determine its location

The old family rock
can no longer be found anywhere