2022-06-01 #writing/poetry #poem-a-day


  • finish

skipping stones that won’t sink There’s a small lake in Lassen where I love to search for stones as my brother taught: flat ones

smooth as the night sky’s skin, long like the slippery life we seek. Finding compatibility is a bit like

looking for a lover. Tension sharpened on the aimless searching, tricky looks catching your eye.

One calls to me. I caress it back. like a baby’s cheek. Trace its swirling tattoo on its spine. It’s back. Replay

my brother meticulously skipping each stone a prayer to the world. Our hopes bottled in a stone. Distilled into

science. I remember. Calculate the arc draw it out. Coax your muscles, bloodshot guards, open. With a single powerful

twist, hurl your gathered mass outward horizon-chasing. Odd trinkets and precious artifacts. Precocious secrets and unvoiced

dreams, welcomed passengers, all flying higher than ever, stretching through sun-pierced air. An effortless

lightness, leaping from disturbance to disturbance to resonant disturbance.

Limber wants. Taut questions. Carved into the memory of sediment.

I see the sparkle of its back far away, my star given freely.