To be born is to overdo.
Stones have no desire
to be our savior.
They’re likely candidates.
They fall & mark
where they have fallen.
These are
the Stations of the Wilderness.
We kneel & cry
the stones the stones
Shall not have
not lived in vain.
A retired anthropology professor-turned-landscaper, the quixotic George Mills was a well-loved figure in the Vineyard poetry community. Until his death in 2001, George and his wife, Florrie, shared a small home in Oak Bluffs where they hosted frequent gatherings of poets, musicians, activists and other thinkers.
