The Stone

He tripped on a stone before impassable waters, a small one, kicked it in frustration, anger

The stone then grew twice, three, four, no, almost five times its size … but was still a small stone

He picked it up, impressed, apologized, gave it a name and tossed it across the waters ahead and it bounced and bounded and giggled and skipped before settling among many other stones beneath heavy waves where it soon washed up from the bottom to become a shore

He stepped forward, humbled

2 thoughts on “The Stone

  1. A wonderful poem, ha now I see what you meant about us writing stone poems, well, well, well (checks birth cert and DNA) freaky and relational indeed in an amazing way. Love this very much.

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