Sunday, August 3, 2014

Poem: Connecting With The Ancient Past

Reaching through moving water
I take up a green stone, 
smooth as an egg,
that fits perfectly in my palm.

I wonder at its symmetry,
its rich color,
its million year journey
of which I am now a part.

When I return to the spot,
after the noise of a summer
storm, it is gone,
tumbled seaward.




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