Old One

Sometimes poetry is when you first learned to skip a rock
across a glassy lake. It touched the water five,
maybe six times, before sinking below the surface.

You looked forever for the perfect one to toss. Even though
forever is where the stone came from and returned to.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Region, Country: San Francisco Bay Area - USA, USA

Favorite Poets: Bukowski, Billy Collins, Ted Kooser, Haiku & Harvey Kurtzman (a visual poet, of sorts)

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Comments

Geezer

6 months 1 week ago

I almost lost...

what I think is the main thread of this post. I think you meant to use the last lines to exemplify the idea that there is nothing new under the sun; the rock will become sand and eventually under the right conditions, pressure and all, become rock again. That's what I got out of it anyway. -Geez.

Michael Anthony

6 months ago

Maybe a too-literal…

Maybe a too-literal interpretation, Geez. I was trying to convey my random thoughts about a very small, but memorable moment. Always appreciate your visits sir!