The pebble flies from the fingertips
Of a lonely woman
And ripples across a pond twice
Before deciding to settle
It will stay there for a while
As time pushes the storm's towards
And away from the pond
As the moon pulls the water
From her place in the sky
With fingertips of glass
And eyes filled with diamonds
As the pebble makes a slow wading way
Back towards the small, rocky shore
Another lonely woman will pass
And throw it into the pond
To begin the process of moving on
To cycle through the ways of decay
And to make room for one more flower
Among a garden of flowers
Who have all decayed