A poem
I travel the world
gathering stones
One from every shore I’ve seen
I cherish them all:
mementos once heated, now cool
They whisper: this is who you are
They rest together in a basket I wove
of breath and blood, synapse and sinew
of days and nights and grass of earth
Yet someday, not today,
I will lower this basket into the river
And smiling, watch it sink to the bottom
As I float
If my writing moved you, please consider clicking the clapping symbol below (the more you click, the more you clap) and sharing. Thank you! ~MP