Dec 2015
the best part of my day*
is picking up a stone
with the dirt still clinging
and the moss still glistening
like how the very grey clouds
nestles in and breathes without sound
this stone does something like that
and everyday it's a different stone
but still the dirt clings on
but of a varying kind
and the moss still glistens
which I hope is still mine
I feel happy with the slight clap
of the stones in my pocket
yet the weight is becoming heavy
and I hope to bring them to the lake
before my love for them
*is outlived
is picking up a stone
with the dirt still clinging
and the moss still glistening
like how the very grey clouds
nestles in and breathes without sound
this stone does something like that
and everyday it's a different stone
but still the dirt clings on
but of a varying kind
and the moss still glistens
which I hope is still mine
I feel happy with the slight clap
of the stones in my pocket
yet the weight is becoming heavy
and I hope to bring them to the lake
before my love for them
*is outlived
