Words for the Chisel (collection)/Words for the Chisel

by Genevieve Taggard

For works with similar titles, see Words for the Chisel.

Words for the Chisel

The moss will creep upon your name
And fill the cleft of mine
And scraggley grasses grow and frame
The granite's oblong line.

This unsubstantial air we cleave
To rear us massive form
Will aid the moss, the viney weave,
The little clumsy worm

Within whose body all the crust
Of earth is powdered so
Often, with such patient lust
Against such granite woe.