Petrified Sod

by Evelyn Rainey

Petrified Sod

A rock

A stone

A piece of God

Rests in my hand

As petrified sod.

It’s cold

And dirty

And very hard

Bespeckled, it sparkles,

By millennium marred.

Some gray

Some white

Some mostly gold

Tiny prisms of sand

By glaciers rolled.

Compacted

Heated

Then thoroughly squashed

And from the Earth’s

Bowels t’was tossed.

So here

It sits

This piece of God

And rests in my hand

As petrified sod.