Oh my dear Rosemerry, let’s remember how water is always moving & shining.
—Sandra Dorr, private correspondence
And so though I am stone,
stuck and dull,
can’t move or shine,
I think of how a rock will skip
when it is round and flat,
how stone turns skiff
when thrown with spin
and speed and slant—
one flick of a wrist and I
can bounce, can hop,
can dap and for a brief time,
shine.
Oh life, pick me up,
give me a toss,
low and quick.
I’ll sink, but first
I’ll fly.
*readers–this poem has a little secret. can you tell what it is??