deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rock Collection.
I row my lonely boat
through the ambient lagoon
I stop the boat under
a weeping willow tree.
My lonely childhood
has entitled me to
a lonely rock collection.
As there is no one to witness me,
I tip the box of rocks
they tumble over one another
plopping and plunking into the
clear, navy blue water.
Suddenly, I notice one rock
about to tumble out with the rest
I jerk the box back towards me
a select the rock from the few left over.
Those are tossed senselessly
into the lagoon with the others
and I gaze at the rock left in my palm.
My first rock
the shining gem, the beginning
of my lonely childhood-
finally, I drop this one, too, and follow it
as it sinks and settles on the bottom.
written july 13, 2007
through the ambient lagoon
I stop the boat under
a weeping willow tree.
My lonely childhood
has entitled me to
a lonely rock collection.
As there is no one to witness me,
I tip the box of rocks
they tumble over one another
plopping and plunking into the
clear, navy blue water.
Suddenly, I notice one rock
about to tumble out with the rest
I jerk the box back towards me
a select the rock from the few left over.
Those are tossed senselessly
into the lagoon with the others
and I gaze at the rock left in my palm.
My first rock
the shining gem, the beginning
of my lonely childhood-
finally, I drop this one, too, and follow it
as it sinks and settles on the bottom.
written july 13, 2007
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