Ripples . . .

10-'11

I threw a stone into a pond,

And where it sank, neat circles formed and moved and moved

And splashed the shore where my toes met the silver-blue rings

With squishy, muddy hellos. 

The rings beyond continued on, much farther than I could see—

Past the half-submerged log,

Past the mama and daddy loons

With their babies piggy-backed three.

Waves skinnied by a bobbing boat, fishline cutting the wake;

They moved and moved past docks and weeds and minnows feeding,

Through channels ever deepening and wide,

And on and on, the concentric current pushed to touch

A stream, a lake, a canal, an ocean,

And a foreign coral shore,

And brushed bare toes with gentle, silver-blue hellos.

Who can know what one little stone can do.

                                                By Lilly  5-14-07

Jackson Lake 10-'11