Poetry‎ > ‎Namesake Water‎ > ‎

River Stones

Saint Paul, 31 January 2007

before you arrive
I balance a cool river stone
on your door handle
knowing you’ll touch it.

the first day
you pick it up
look above you
set it beside your door

the second day
you pick it up
look around you
slip it in your pocket

on the third day
you examine it
perhaps admiring its color
or how smooth it seems

in the days after
I imagine you lose yourself
in the details of every stone
and these moments comfort

some time later
you knock on my door
to show me the stones you found
and to share the mystery

yes I say
I like how this feels
between my fingertips
you are pleased

after you leave
I wonder if you think
of the ribbons of water
that polished your stone

I can’t recall
which one of us remarked
stones come from bigger stones
so infinity was once a rock