Pebbles
By Ewan
Mon, 10 May 2010
- 1506 reads
6 comments
She lets one fall
into the nearest water;
shallow or deep,
it doesn't matter.
The ripples move
from static centre
- rapid or slow -
the water changes.
He hurls one fast
across the smooth surface;
sinking or skimmed,
it's linear travel.
The splashes fade
- the stone gets smaller -
distant or near,
a pebble's taken.
Hand in water
grasping curved smoothness
- pebble or word -
it ripples again.
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Comments
What a great poem, subtle
Permalink Submitted by maggyvaneijk on
What a great poem, subtle and sweet on the outside and clever on the inside.
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I like it too - but do you
I like it too - but do you mean it's or its? Both work!
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There is something
There is something particularly zen about this piece, Ewan. I like it a lot.
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