The Stones
janine canan
Along the beach stones,
exposed by the retreating tide,
greet me like friends from long ago.
And I bend to gather
eggs, mounds, ovals, crescents
smoothed by life in the tumbling sea.
Some broken by a catastrophic blow
reveal inside a glittering gold.
As I walk the studded shore
they pound in my loving hand --
heartbeats of the crumbling earth
I shall one day let go.