Imperfect Pebble

 
The ivy waits
sleeping herons  
dream of silver
beaks stabbing  
at pluming smoke  
in a wet sky
 
The rule of years
flows unnoticed  
until time
drives nails deep
Gulping dust  
each hammer blow
bludgeoning decay
to the dance
of sinking stones
 
You will know
what to do
When it's time
you will know