choosing
a random stone sits upon the dresser
green slate culled from walks along the river
its striated shades as varied as the sea,
fern from forest, olive drab of army,
new buds sprouting sunshine among the trees
this silent charm once sang me sweetest psalm
now locks down papers from a window’s breeze
warmed by your touch it served as healing balm
quieting my ache when placed on bruising knee
encircled by slim fingers that once blessed me.
its mood has changed, its master shaman gone,
from vibrant voice to murky and withdrawn
and yet, I cherish its dirgeless wordless mourn
admire its resignation to a blind god’s scorn.
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