If I let go

this rock would crush my bones

and end this punishment.

The gods who put me here

think they have control

but do not know

that they have none.

I keep this stone alive

and make it more than stone.

I shove and keep up this momentum

to know another day of work.

I choose to take another step

and keep this weight

against my chest,

my ribs,

my arms,

my neck,

the effort of my legs,

my breath.

my bulging veins,

and yes,

my fear of losing

what I’ve come to love.

What is this stone

I hold against despair?

Why not take a final gasp

and say that’s it!

No more strain!

No more foul air!

Why keep myself from stumbling,

knowing if I did,

this stone would rumble over me

and leave me lying here

among the other stones

until I’m dust.

Why not stop these questions—

stop desiring answers?

Why hold this stone

with calloused hands

one more day?

Why lean my cheek

against this coldness?

Why mumble one more word

and search the stars

for meaning---

something to embrace?

I ask these questions

looking at the sun, the moon,

and you, dear stars,

then at my feet,

and take

another step.