Trying to Move a Stone

There was a man who built his house

beside a great stone, as large as a

city bank vault with compartments

where crows came to nest.

“I will move that stone next spring,”

he said to his wife, and when the

snow melted he harnessed the mule

and he tried. And tried.

The next year he said, “Now I know how,” 

and pressed a lever into

the fleshy dirt beneath the stone,

and he tried. And tried.

Years passed, and the man spent

more and more time sitting beside

the stone, building and rebuilding

contraptions in his mind to try.

When the man was old and tired of

trying, he went out to the

stone one morning as the

mist was lifting off to fly home,

and he said, “I have spent my life

trying to move you. Now I set you

free. Do as you please.” The stone said

nothing, but the lichen loosened its grip.