A Father's Voice

Boy at the lake's shore skims flat stones on its surface cups each oval how fast can he throw? to chart the toss mechanics of an arc to chase the horizon in pebble leaps His father's voice, an inward echo "That's it son, skip the stone with velocity!" "Release, spin, stabilize." "You know this lake well enough." Seven or eight stone skips that nip small waves to a bloated plop he searches for the next right stone its weight easy to handle varies his grip Can he do more in an altered state? A boy who knows what displaces gravity what sinks below the surface into the lake's darkness, the deepest kind to find his soul's reprieve when the script shifts when tears curl in the corners of his eyes for a lost voice that displaces the velocity of self Poem composed August 1/21 For Anthony Biaanco Contest: Stones