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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397085" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Stonehenge</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=397085" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What can be said to the stones<br>the deaf blocks unyielding to tenderness.<br>Question them and expect to be assailed<br>by a tract, by a jingoistic reply<br>Expect to come away bruised <br>broken by the heedless conformity <br>lines crossing the heart of the crooked sky<br>no more relevant to this vital world<br>than their acrimonious retorts <br>to your soft pleading queries<br>What can be said to a grieving mother? <br>asking softly why her son is dead, <br>that she is insincere in her puzzlement? <br>of the craggy forms <br>of emanations of nonsense <br>blatherings from a hidden teleprompter<br>grasping reason and feeling <br>ripping them with archless grace<br>with stoic poise and scrubbed stone<br>through piles of rubble, treaties, and rotting flesh <br>explaining with monolithic droll<br>with guards and fences to protect<br>their preeminence <br>why sanguine tears must pour into the basin<br>below the blood gutters<br>along with the seeds of a nation and<br>why it is necessary for death and sacrifice<br>be accepted without complaint</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=George+Murdock">George Murdock</a></strong></div>