Stone

A grey oval, quite ordinary

save for a strip of mist on the edge

like a wisp of silver hair,

fits into the palm of my hand,

wanting to shine but pitted with age

and the elements. I hold it

when I want to smell the sea.

–excerpt from “Stone” by Donna Pucciani, in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn (Virtual Artists Collective 2011). First published in Iconoclast.

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One response to “Stone

  1. poetryandmusings

    yes, I too can smell the sea!! thanks for sharing!!

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