Counted.....

The pebbles fall, like coins tossed, along the cliff’s steep edge,
like fevered wishes tumbled from trembling lips, a dry and bitter kiss.
Where do the dreams of those lost and never numbered go,
when the night wicks away hope’s light?

The mountain’s face, shorn sharp and straight, unending,
a living wall twinned, yet dwarfed, by the halls of troubled minds.
Stones cutting, thoughts biting, rock hewn rough by wind and despair.
Can you hear stone giant’s painful sigh?

It’s a little thing, oft unseen, the single raindrop, a lone tear,
pulling up the deep and settled roots of hills and hearts.
Who remembers those forgotten who always mattered most,
Who numbers the world’s fears that’ve settled in the dark?

                                                                            --- e.a.s. demers