The spoken moments hold hands
  with the unspoken moments.
Frigid cheeks on an unswerving bridge,
   miles old;
Hardened rock standing firm,
   reaching far down into the swirls;
Babble passes behind and below--
   bicycles and arguments;
A seal glosses the water,
   A car trips along from the grocery store.
My legs fuse with the stones,
   and I, too, am ancient;
Forever here, 
   my history in battles and silences.

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