I love skipping rocks.
Love.
The hunting for and finding of flat, thin, round rocks is intoxicating.
The quarry creates a grid on the ground in front of you.
Texturized.
Wild.
Easy prey.
I run rampant.
The letting go is not easy.
After the search and the find,
why not keep?
What if the water
is not right
scavenges
hides for good
that which took work to find.
Took time.
A stone may be
kept
in a pocket
waiting
wanting
wishing.
Or may be cast.
Voted.
Thrown.
Out.
Why not throw?
Why throw?
Who knows.
Sometimes you should
do it
not
wait
not care.
You can always swim out after it.
