Poem: Taken Pebble

 

Taken Pebble

 

quartz-laced pebbles

roll to and fro

as bully waves leave wet bruises

and, oh, how they shine.

 

but the slow bleed of stubborn minerals

doesn’t care.  won’t distinguish

forces gradual and murderous

from a windowsill.

 

taken, then,

 

from comber to trinket,

perched close to a desk,

to hobnob with fossils

and a few shells.

 

once harried and fretted,

now a staid ornament,

embossed over steady seasons

with all-too-human dust.

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