a stone picked up on a walk
gravelled bit torn from pavement
common industrial dirt
if I throw it into the waterlogged ditch
what stories will leach into the weeds
traveled myths rumbled from trucks
tarsid dreams wiped by ants
childhood memories slicked from my hand
or will it sink to the bottom, at home in the tangled slime
not needing to do anything at all
let me be like that rock
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