I Am Stone

I am stone kicked about on a grassy path, boots stomping unhurriedly find their mark in me, the owner seems lost in thought - but the boots keep kicking me accurately, I drift as in a dream, if stones can dream. The last kick has sent me flying right into some dried-out patch of grass, purple and gloomy in the pale growing dusk. The boots have stopped walking, I feel safe now, assured I won't be kicked again. Journey's end for the boots is a house sitting alone in a corner, like me it must feel anxious that the boots may kick its door, but house and me, stone, are inanimate - we don't feel, and life is mere kicking of boots. @jjote 070121