Hard as Stone
my father dug into the Earth in the Black Hills
Gold Mine β two stories underground β
his way lit only by the light on his helmet.
with pick ax and shovel he dug β
pressing his muscles into
each striation of the ground
using the bundles of fibrous tissue on his back and legs
that became layered like the colored ribbons on an agate;
becoming what he dug, what he hollowed out β
the smooth, polished stone in shades of brown
with mahogany, umber and sienna ribbons
following each other around the outside β
and even though we cannot see them,
they run through the center as well.
what he dug became a cavern that grew
over time β with each stroke
of the ax as it cleaved the rock
smooth, yet hard β hard as granite β
hard as the dark β deep, down in the mine
hard as the days and nights he excavated the Earth,
digging and cutting the bedrock,
creating ridges and valleys
inside the world of stone,
β hard as life
inside our mother planet
under her crusted mantle,
with her breathing herself
onto him and sighing
as he tore away her flesh,
β hard as it is to suffer patiently
while something or someone
digs you hollow
by Annette Gagliardi
Published in Minnesota Voices Booklet, summer 2020, Wadena MN, [email protected]
Published in Down in the Dirt Magazine, via Scars Publications in October 2018.
Published in Parallel Universe, Down in the Dirt March/April 2019. Vol 163, Scars Publications.
Published in Pasque Petals, the Magazine of the South Dakota State Poetry Society, April 2018.
Printed in ERR Artist Collective, ERR-otta Zine, March 14th, 2018.