I like them. I like them because they intrigue me.
They intrigue me because I want them to tell me
how they became a rock. I want to know all about them.
How did they get to the spot where I picked them up?
I want to know what shaped them. I want to know what is in them.
Why are they smooth or why are the rough? These rocks never talk,
at least not to me. I know there are people who can talk rock-talk
and know everything about all the pretty rocks I find strewn at my feet.
I am terribly envious. I want to talk to a rock too. But the most I can do,
is take them with me from the places I go; then put them on my desk,
and recall the day we met.
4/17/13, Victoria, B.C.