by Nate Wilkerson
I found a family
of rocks in a river
and stuffed my pockets
before going home
to wash them,
scrub them
place in them in lines
first by color, then by size
I stared until two, three
then four in the morning
knowing inside
that one day
there would be no love
for this new family
on the edge of a bridge
I stood
throwing them
back to the river
when I close my eyes
all I see now are
rocks in lines
first by color, then by size
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There's something charming about this.
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