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Collected Stones

And so it’s the end; it was all
Or nothing and now
It’s the end. Every good thing

Dies, so it may live again and
Now it’s the end of my
Passionate friend—collected stones

From the ancient river hold
Secrets of time forgotten
On their journey to the sea.

Time to move—to stay is certain
Death—to risk is to take
The ride to the end of the river.

—Mike Mikus

 

Local poets were writing about contemporary events in the Sangamo
Journal as early as the 1830s. People’s Poetry wants you to share your thoughts
on what’s happening in Springfield today—in poetic form. Poems on any subject
will be considered, but ones that deal with issues of local interest are encouraged.
Send yours to poetry editor Lee Gurga, P.O. Box 662, Lincoln, IL 62656, or to
gurga@ccaonline.com with “Bards
of the Sangamo” in the subject line. (Please limit your submissions to
poems of 14 lines or less.)

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